


unsure and a hundred

by StarkRevelations



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: FrostIron - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRevelations/pseuds/StarkRevelations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He felt like he’d been falling and falling for days, waiting to either hit the ground in a huge mess, or for Loki to appear. And even then, he didn’t know if Loki would catch him, or watch him falling, and laugh, and the fear that someone had that power over him was scary. It’d probably be better if Loki did watch him fall, and if he managed to pick himself up and clean up his own mess. He’d told himself that he wouldn’t care, either way, once he’d given the opportunity, but he knew that what was best and what he wanted were two different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unsure and a hundred

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic was written as a result of two different prompts I received from terresdebrume and yuki-nakayama-hidaka on Tumblr. The title is from the song 'Hundred' by The Fray, because once the fic was written and finished, I felt it suited. Enjoy. :3
> 
> I think an eventual sequel to this is likely, also.

New York lit up like an enormous circuit board in the evenings, from afar, Tony always thought, but no building as eye-catching as Stark Tower anymore. Not just because of the design, though it was pretty goddamn impressive, but for the fact that people knew now who lived here. Genius, billionaire, playboy _bla bla bla_ , for starters, everyone knew he was here already, though, he made sure of that by putting his name in big shiny letters on the side of the building when he got here, but no, thanks to what happened two months ago, all eyes were on Stark Tower. Or, as Tony had started referring to it, Avengers Tower, but only in his head where he was sure no one would pick up on it.

The next Stark Expo was coming up, too, and everybody was interested in getting to see into the breakthrough that the Tower was. Clean energy and world peace, courtesy of Tony Stark.  Well, peace in this world, at least. It was weird to think about these days anyway, now that he couldn’t ignore the fact that he wasn’t the only one out there trying to make a difference anymore, now that he’d worked with some of those people, people like Cap, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the best of the best. Then there was Thor, he was a fucking _God_. Tony wondered every now and again what the hell he was doing stepping into the same league as these people sometimes, but he was designing them a goddamn Tower of operations for christ’s sake, that was bound to count for something, right? He had Bruce for company anyway. Bruce was definitely his favourite.

“Will you stop playing with your pet project for a minute and come approve these for me, please?”

Tony blinked and looked over his shoulder quickly, to where Pepper sat waiting expectantly in one of the stools by his mini-bar, one knee crossed over the other and a stack of papers in front of her. He waved his hand through the air, minimizing the project files he’d been looking over, and clicked his fingers to turn everything on standby.

“It’s not a pet project, it’s a—“

“You realise you should probably discuss your _‘scheming’_ with the other people on your team that doesn’t exist yet?”

“—it does exist, where _were_ you for the Loki thing? Anyway, it’s not a pet project,” Tony paused, pulling two fresh glasses from the cabinet. “It’s a good idea and you know it, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

“I still think you should be talking to them, they’re gonna notice eventually. Unless you plan on _moving them in_ without them realizing too—“

“Worked for Bruce.”

“Tony….” Pepper sighed, pursing her lips while trying not to smile as he walked around the bar to sit across from her, grinning. “I’m not drinking that, I have to drive myself to the airport after this.”

“What? Where’s Happy?”

“He’s driving _you_ to—“

“No, he’s not, because I’m not going, I told him that, I’ve already been to _three_ stupid galas this week.”

“And I sent an RSVP saying you _were_ going, now sign these, please, these slots needs approved, Expo is next month and they’re getting antsy.”

Tony rolled his eyes, downing the small glass of scotch whiskey and narrowing his eyes at the papers Pepper slid across the bar toward him. If these were what Pepper’d narrowed the final slots down too, he trusted her judgement, but he had to sign them, all the same.

“You could probably forge my signature by now; I dunno _why_ you don’t….” He mumbled as he flicked through them, catching the short breath of laughter Pepper gave in response. He acknowledged easily to himself that he’d be lost without her, no point denying it, and she was sharp enough to know that without him having to say it anymore.

He remembered the fiasco of last Expo, when she was CEO, and how she’d encouraged him to hold this one anyway. They’d come a long way in the last year, in more ways than Tony felt like counting. He’d put her through a lot, making her CEO, the situation with the reactor, his actions when he thought he was dying. Things were different after that, when he and Pepper got together; Tony had been almost tripping over himself trying to make everything better, make himself better—Pepper just made him want to _be_ a better person, and he’d enjoyed sharing his successes with her, _for_ her.

Then the Chitauri attack happened, and _that_ changed too.

He should’ve known that he couldn’t keep himself and Iron Man separate enough for it to work. He needed Iron Man, and he needed Pepper, and he needed Pepper for Iron Man and Iron Man for Pepper, and all of it together so that he could be better. Pepper caught on before he did that it wasn’t gonna work. She couldn’t continue being responsible for him in that way, it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t gonna lead him to a good place. _‘I can’t be your reason or purpose, Tony,’_ she’d said. _‘It just doesn’t work. You’ll lose yourself, **I’ll** lose you, in every way imaginable. I love you, but there’s just no way this can keep going the way it is.’_

He hadn’t understood at the time, wasn’t sure he did now, but some of it did make sense. He needed Pepper and Pepper needed him, but she couldn’t have Tony while he had Iron Man, not fully, and he couldn’t have her while he had Iron Man. Problem being, Tony _is_ Iron Man. The suit was his reason, his purpose, what he needed to give back to the world, but he and the suit were one, so he was essentially his own reason and purpose, which was how Pepper said it needed to be.

In some ways it was better, now; they were closer than ever. There was one of two ways it could’ve gone; things got awkward and they grew distant, or there was an understanding and they grew past it. They’d shared everything with each other, and neither of them wanted to forget it. They continued telling each other everything. Pepper knew this way was better. She was always smart like that, she knew Tony better than he did.

“You need to be ready in an hour, Happy will be here in—“

_“Mr Stark, Agent Romanoff is in the lobby requesting an audience.”_

Tony and Pepper both froze when Jarvis spoke, staring at each other with suspicious eyes, about to question each other when they caught in each other’s expression that it was futile.

“Urgently?” Tony asked, stomach sinking very suddenly when he remembered the day two months ago when an agent named Phil had bypassed all his security to deliver an ‘urgent’ message.

_“I am assured so, sir.”_

“Guess I got more homework, send her up,” he mumbled, looking away from Pepper because he didn’t want to watch the way her smile fell.

“If this is something….big, be careful, Tony.”

Tony nodded, eyes drawn to the large window as he remembered being hurled out of it by the God of Mischief. It was weird, after Afghanistan, when he’d seen the effect he had on the world; mortality hadn’t really felt like a big issue. Not his own, at least. Not when he fought Obie, or Vanko—he’d fought against his death when the palladium poisoning set in, but it was all too easy to give up when he’d exhausted possible solutions. He was more worried about setting everything in place for when he was gone.

Coulson changed it for everyone, he thought. _Phil_ did. It was still hard to come to terms with the fact that he hadn’t been as immortal as Tony’d seen him, and to be constantly reminded that none of them were. He’d stay lay down his own life if there was no other way, but looking at Pepper, after they’d actually lost someone, made him think of how she’d deal if he went down the same road. He was definitely more careful after Phil.

The elevator doors slid open, and Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as the Black Widow, stepped out. Tony had almost expected Phil to follow her, because he was on his mind. She was in her S.H.E.I.L.D gear, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Miss Potts,” she spoke as tonelessly as ever, offering Pepper a nod.

“Uh, Agent Romanoff,” Pepper stood and gathered up the papers, all signed, as she spoke. “It’s nice to see you again.”

The corner of Natasha’s mouth lifted in a tiny smirk, and Tony remembered that last time Pepper’d seen Natasha was when she’d been a shadow in Stark Industries for Fury. Must be weird.

“I’ve been sent to escort you and Doctor Banner to a meeting.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to Tony, another mirror of Coulson, who had escorted Tony to the first unofficial meeting of the Avengers, when they were all meeting properly for the first time.

“I could probably make my own way by now,” Tony pointed out, standing and stretching.

“The Hellicarrier is in constant motion, Stark. You won’t need your suit.”

Eugh, it was gonna be that kinda meeting. Great.

“I’ll take Happy, tell him you’re busy,” Pepper offered, leaning forward to share a quick hug. “Call me when you’re done if you can?”

“Yup. I’ll try, anyway, we all know how bad you are with phone calls in the air,” Tony joked, winking, and Pepper rolled her eyes before turning her back on him, her high-heels clipping the floor as she made her way toward the elevator.

“Goodbye, Tony,” she said dismissively, but with a smile, and the doors slid shut.

“Better tell me what’s so urgent, then, Agent Romanoff,” Tony put on his best put-out voice. “I’m turning down a _very good_ party for this.”

 

 

*

 

 

 _Holy crap, this actually is urgent_ , was the first thing Tony thought has Natasha landed the jet and he looked out the window to see Captain America crossing the runway in the distance. He nudged Bruce with his elbow and pointed, which probably wasn’t a great idea. If Bruce wasn’t nervous _before,_ he was now.

“Is there any chance you’re gonna tell us what this is about yet?” Bruce asked Natasha, his tone pleasant but clearly on edge.

“Director Fury’s to explain everything at the meeting,” She responded unhelpfully, then looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “We’re grateful you agreed to come, Bruce.”

Tony watched as Bruce let out his signature nervous laugh. “Yeah, _he_ probably wouldn’t fit in the jet very well if I didn’t.”

“Not what I meant,” She smirked, and Bruce smiled knowingly, relaxing.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Tony patted his shoulder a few times while Natasha pulled the lever for the doors. “I’m pretty sure everybody forgot about your last visit by now, I mean, the damage is _barely_ noticeable anymore.”

“ _Riiiight…_ ”

 

 

*

 

 

The bridge was almost empty of agents, which was another alarm signal in Tony’s books. He and Bruce settled into the conference chairs a little apprehensively, Bruce probably more so. He had more reason to distrust these people than Tony did, not that either of them exactly wanted to trust S.H.E.I.L.D. Tony suspected Bruce agreed to come for the same reason Tony wanted to come; maybe, just maybe, the team was needed again. There were already four of them present; himself, Bruce, Cap fiddling with the collar of his jacket on the other side of the conference table, and Natasha, not seated but standing nearby. Maria Hill directed a small group of agents in front of some screens, too far for Tony to pick up what was going on just then, but he was more curious over where Fury was.

“Problem with the leather?” Tony asked Steve, more to fill the silence than anything else. He wasn’t sure what he thought or felt about Steve yet, not like he was sure that he liked Bruce. The problem was that he started off wanting to hate him, which was kinda pathetic. The amount of times he’d listened to his Dad talk about the lost success of Steve Rogers, while looking at Tony with disappointment, or the amount of times he was left behind when Howard went searching for him, even years after he fell. Sometimes Tony ran away into the city, back when he was little and lived in New York with his family, to see if his Dad would search for him just as fervently. The nanny would, always in a panic over getting fired over losing him, and his Dad would glare Tony down when he was found before going ahead and firing her anyway.

Point is, Tony didn’t _want_ to like the guy, but he couldn’t help admiring him. He was everything Tony had wanted to be in his father’s eyes, growing up.

“Wha--? Oh… No, I just came from a haircut.” Steve cleared his throat and lowered his hands from his neck, crossing his arms over his chest. Tony narrowed his eyes at his hair, searching for a difference.

“Uh _huh_ ….”

Steve shifted uncomfortably under the stare, and Tony resisted the urge to take triumph and grin at that. “What?”

“Nothing. Didn’t say a thing.” He said, deciding to go ahead and grin anyway. “Any ideas what’s going on here?”

“Not really. I guess it’s a team thing?” Tony and Bruce both nodded their agreement, so Steve continued. “I mean, there’s the three of us and Agent Romanoff…”

“And Barton.” Natasha spoke suddenly.

Tony looked around at the empty conference tables, to Bruce, who shrugged, to the group of agents with Hill, none of which were Hawkeye, to Steve, who frowned and turned in his chair, looking around.

“Nobody ever thinks to look _up._ ”

On cue, the three of them did look up to where the voice came from to find him swinging upside down from a water wipe crossing the ceiling, knees hooked around it like an acrobat.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that, tell ‘em, Bruce,” Tony grinned, pointing up, while Steve continued to frown his disapproval of Tony, Clint, and the situation in general.

“You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry,” Bruce provided half-heartedly.

“Sorry to interrupt the little _reunion,_ but Barton I’m gonna need you to join us on eye-level.”

 _Now we’re getting started._ Tony turned his seat a little to follow everyone else’s gaze to where Fury was striding onto the bridge, and he definitely didn’t jump a little when Clint swung to the floor with a thud. Fury held Tony’s attention for all of about five seconds because, holy shit, that was _Thor_ following behind him. Now they really did have the whole team, but what _for_?

“This isn’t good,” Bruce muttered through a sigh.

“Such a greeting would be taken as ill-mannered on another day, my friend,” Thor pointed out with a grim smile, following Fury on his way to the bridge controls before taking a seat near Steve. “But aye, my tidings are not a cause of great celebration.”

“One of these days we’ll meet up for pizza and a movie, no ominous dudes with eye patches invited and no damage to public property.” Tony crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.

“Or shawarma again,” Clint provided.

“Shawarma and a movie,” Tony agreed, while Bruce interjected, “As long as Thor doesn’t attack the screen or something.”

“This is all real nice, but how about we deal with the problem at hand first?” Fury, forever the moment-killer, turned and fixed them all with a one-eyed glare one by one. “You can feel free to discuss your little dinner dates after when I don’t have to listen to it.”

“Don’t get jealous just cause you’re not invited.”

“Stark, hold the schoolgirl jibes. Barton, Romanoff, take a seat. Sooner we get talking the better.”

Tony did hold the jokes, but only because he was far too curious over where this was going, and for once he agreed with Fury; sooner it got underway, the better. Natasha settled into a chair easily, Clint followed almost reluctantly, and Fury placed both hands palm-down on the desk, leaning over it.

“As I’m pretty sure you’ve all noticed, Thor’s back.” _Yes, good, Fury, state the obvious…._ Tony tapped a rhythm impatiently into the desk. “He showed up early this morning with news that you all gotta hear, but that _will not be repeated to anyone **not** in this room, am I clear_?” After a moment in which no one objected, Fury straightened and took a step back. “Thor, talk.”

Thor rested his elbows on the desk, hands bunched into fists as he began. “Loki has escaped our confinement.”

“What?!”

Tony was actually a little surprised that Steve was the first to interrupt. “Uhh—what he said, he—how long’s he been out and about?”

“I said that he has escaped _our_ confinement.”

The room fell silent, everyone but Fury staring at Thor in disbelief, confusion, apprehension, or all three.

“Thor, you’re gonna have to elaborate for us,” Bruce said, sounding like he was giving a kid a chore they really didn’t like but that everyone knew they were gonna give in and do anyway.

“He was stolen from us by an Asgardian, a powerful sorceress by the name Amora, also called the Enchantress. She has taken him from or realm, but to what other realm we do not yet know, she has the power to travel between worlds.” Thor looked down at his hands, giving a frustrated sigh. “He was taken in his bonds, and we believe he will have escaped her if she has removed them.”

“But there’s no sign of him.” Natasha assumed, frowning.

“Neither message nor signal from either,” Thor nodded. “We do not know what her purpose with Loki is; Heimdall cannot see or hear her, or Loki.”

“Okay, but have you considered she was helping him?” Tony pointed out. “Busted him out, part of some big plan or anything?”

“It is a possibility, perhaps, though she has not been of particular acquaintance to Loki. He appeared to fight against Skurge when—“

“Sorry, Thor,” Steve interrupted, leaning forward. “Skurge?”

“Amora’s consort. A warrior, taller and heavier than I am, not an Asgardian, but almost seeming to be. I believe he is of Jotun descent.”

“Okay, so, summed up,” Tony blinked, looking up as he gathered all the details. “Loki’s either in league with or been kidnapped by an inter-dimensional witch, or something, and a Frost Giant, but either way, there’s an evil plot involved somewhere.”

“Not entirely accurate, but something is afoot.”

“And what are _we_ supposed to do?” Bruce looked up, to Fury, who had been watching silently from the bridge controls for the duration of the conversation.

“At the moment, we need you to be ready.”

“…So is that it?” Tony frowned, looking from one face to another. “Now we know? We just go home and twiddle our thumbs?”

“Romanoff, Barton, you’ll both be pulled off any upcoming field missions. Stark, I want you to conduct as much business from that tower and as near a suit as you can, shouldn’t be hard. Doctor Banner, we’d like for you to remain on base, but nobody’s gonna force you.”

Natasha and Clint _really_ didn’t look happy about being called off missions, but Bruce looked far unhappier about staying on the Helicarrier. His mouth opened a little, as if considering protesting, and his eyebrows were drawn together in a frown, clearly torn over his decision, so Tony decided to step in.

“Why’s he gotta stay here? He can twiddle his thumbs at the Tower a lot easier than here. In fact,” This was actually the perfect time to let slip his redesigns…. “I got room there for everybody; we can twiddle our thumbs in the same place and respond at the same time when something comes up.”

The room fell silent, which wasn’t exactly the response Tony’d been expecting. All eyes were on him now, a mixture of expressions being thrown his way that he wasn’t really sure what to do with. Bruce and Thor looked interested, Bruce actually looked happy about the idea, Natasha, Clint and Fury looked suspicious, and Steve just looked confused.

“You wanna house a god of thunder, two assassins, the Hulk and Captain America, on your property in the middle of New York.” Fury stated, as if to clarify.

Tony resented how he said ‘The Hulk’ darkly, but ‘Captain America’ with a stupid amount of respect, like he was too good to stay there and Bruce wasn’t good _enough_ , so he said. “Yeah. That _is_ what I suggested.”

Fury raised his one visible eyebrow, and looked around the room. “Any objections?”

“You got a gym?” Clint asked almost right away, eyes still narrowed.

“I have an entire _floor_ that’s a gym,” Tony grinned.

Clint looked back to Fury with a weirdly satisfied smile. “I’m in.” Natasha shrugged, closed her eyes and nodded after Clint spoke.

“I’d rather not have to move to the Helicarrier,” Bruce said quietly, turning to look at Tony out of the corner of his eye. “If that’s okay?”

“Pfff, Bruce, you practically live there already, and I invited _you_ ages ago, so.”

“It will be our Keep,” Thor said suddenly, straightening eagerly in his chair, grinning in a way Tony was _sure_ had to be dangerous.

Fury rolled his eye at the rest of them, and turned to face Steve. “Cap?”

“….I’d hate to be too far from the team if a fight rose up.” He said after a moment. “It’s very hospitable of you, Tony.”

“Then it’s settled,” Fury sighed and took a step away from the desk. “I’ll trust Barton and Romanoff to report back to me regularly, but for the foreseeable future, you all relocate to Stark Tower.”

_Wait until Pepper hears this……_

_  
_

 

*

 

 

As it turned out, he didn’t get much time to call Pepper up and gloat when they were escorted back to Stark Tower. Tony had no idea why they needed to be escorted everywhere, he figured they should be _considered_ an escort themselves, but hey. Sometimes it was fun to tease Fury, other times it was better to go along with him so he’d get home quicker and get to show off how considerate a team player he’d been before anyone was sure there’d be a continued team.

Night had fallen properly by the time they got themselves gathered together and got to the Tower, but the landing pad was well lit, and Tony knew it like the back of his hand anyway, so with him leading the way, anyone distracted enough to walk too far in the wrong direction and fall off or something only had themselves to blame. Bruce stuck close at least.

“Aren’t you worried they’ll get creeped out when they see—you know?” He whispered, and Tony looked back over his shoulder to see Natasha narrowing her eyes as she followed with the others. She, Clint and Steve carried large military style duffle-bags of belongings, with some random agents following with weaponry. Thor brought nothing but his hammer, which worried Tony a little. Someone was gonna have to bring him clothes shopping….

“Nah, they’ll get over it,” he answered Bruce finally, making his way in the side-door. The last time any of them had been in here was when they apprehended Loki, and it was a very different sight without the damages. “Well, Cap might need to come around, but the G-men know what I’m like. And Thor’s a god; he was probably expecting a custom room anyway.”

 Tony watched as they all filed into the room one by one, slowly, looking around as they did. Tony didn’t like the way Clint’s eyes were drawn to the ceiling, or how Thor’s were drawn to the spot in the floor that had once been Loki-shaped.

“Okay, so,” There as a quiet noise as all heads turned to face him, and he clicked his finger, waiting for Jarvis’ interface to appear on the desk he’d paused at. Bruce shifted awkwardly beside him as he scrolled through some folders, coming to the new designs after a moment. He spread his hands quickly, and a 3-D projection of the plans appeared. “This is how it’s gonna work.” With one hand on the top of the glowing representation of the Tower and one at the bottom, he made as if it pull the two ends apart until each floor separated from the others in little segments.

“From here up,” he pulled, zooming. “Each floor is a room, with a common room at the bottom, and business floors below that, nobody needs to go there.” He shoved the lower floors away, discarding them in favour of focussing on the Avengers’ floors. “We’re here,” he stretched the top floor out, zooming, then putting it back. “Nobody really needs to be in here after today either, actually, because the common room and kitchen is here,” he moved to the bottom of the stack of floors, zooming on that one briefly.

“Why is there a common room?” Natasha spoke up, sharp as ever.

“So that everybody’s not invading _all_ my space, anyway, the floor below the room we’re in now is my room, and below that is Bruce’s,” he shoved both floors out of the way as he spoke. “Hawkeye is under that, then you, Widow, then Thor and Steve.”

“Did you—Have these rooms ready for--?” Steve stepped forward, tilting his head to examine the 3-D model.

“I was doing Bruce’s anyway,” Tony shrugged, appearing the epitome of the phrase ‘no big deal’. “Figured it’d probably come in handy eventually if we were gonna do this thing every now and again.”

“What made you think we would?” Natasha was watching Tony closely, which didn’t make him feel uneasy _at all_.

“A hunch,” he replied with a wink.

“….So we get custom rooms?” Clint summarized, grinning. “A floor each?”

“Bedroom, en-suit bathroom, decent sized living room area, comm system through Jarvis… You can go see for yourself if everybody knows where they’re going. Oh, that reminds me,” Tony blinked suddenly, looking over at Thor. “Thor, I dunno how to explain it beyond narrowing it down to, the building talks. If anybody needs anything, ask Jarvis. Jarvis, say hey.”

“Good evening,” The AI replied almost pleasantly. Thor looked up as if searching for a person in the ceiling, and Steve inhaled sharply before Tony realized it might creep him out too.

“He’s a computer,” Tony explained. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Can we see our rooms now?” Clint huffed impatiently, and Tony pointed a thumb toward the elevator.

 

 

*

 

 

What Tony had expected, at first, and that he’d been ready for, was a repeat of what happened in the Helicarrier lab the day they brought Loki in for the first time. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected it, really, when Loki’s influence was now removed, but all the same he’d been bracing himself for a worst case scenario.

While day one went not as good as he’d expected it to, after half of them had stayed to their own floor alone while Tony, Bruce and Thor sat around in the common room, the following days weren’t so bad. Everyone was edgy at first, ready to be called out at any moment, and around each other. Tony wasn’t exactly pleased when he observed everyone not bothering to hide the fact that they were edgiest around Bruce, which was just inconsiderate in his books, but he made up for it by dragging Bruce around the labs with him at every opportunity.

Steve spent so long in the gym that Tony secretly began plotting ways for the guy to get a life, joined occasionally by Clint and Natasha. He hung around to watch the three of them sparring once. Never again.

They argued over the TV when they were all in the common room, which was understandable. For the first few days, whoever was overruled normally stalked off to their room to watch TV there, but when they discovered that they were actually sort of comfortable around each other, and that their combined commentaries were something to be remembered, they started to suck it up and watch whatever most of them agreed on.

Restocking the kitchen became a much bigger deal than it had previously been, given that Tony rarely ate in the Tower before and when he did, he rarely made it himself. Thor, however, couldn’t get enough of it. Bruce had started teaching him how to work the coffee machine when he told him about the drink he’d been offered ‘long ago’ in New Mexico, but gave up after a few frustrated attempts over the course of one day. Tony took over then, and within the first week, between the two of them, Thor had the hang of it. He was waiting to find out whether a caffeinated god of thunder still angry over his brother’s disappearance was a good idea or not.

Pepper returned from DC on the ninth day.

“I don’t understand how no one has seen or heard anything from them yet, there’s three of them and—“

“They might not even be in this world, though, Pep.”

“—and I don’t know how long this living situation is going on for, or if I should be talking to people about the fact that you’re housing S.H.E.I.L.D agents and— and Captain America, and _Thor—_ “

She lowered herself gracefully into the couch in the top floor room, slipping her high heels off with a sigh.

“We didn’t have to tell anyone about Bruce. And who cares how long it goes on for, it’s actually working. I knew it’d work.”

“That was when it was _just_ Bruce, Tony.” She accepted the glass he handed her gratefully, a non-alcoholic spritz because she still had the whole day to get through. “And if you’re thinking of doing this as a long-term thing, it really needs to be brought up.”

“How about,” Tony flopped down next to her. “We wait until _after_ this new Loki situation before deciding whether to bring it up. This is a good set-up, especially with nuts like the Enchantress out there.”

“Does Fury know you’ve told me all of this?”

Tony grinned, gave a shrug, and Pepper sighed, pursing her lips.

 

 

*

 

 

Fury called in on them unannounced the next day, which heightened Tony’s suspicions that he had some sort of tapping system that alerted him when his name was mentioned anywhere on the globe. _I should have one of those,_ he thought, idly, wondering over its design briefly while everyone gathered in the couches of the common room in front of Fury.

“Is there news on my brother?” Thor demanded, cape swaying behind him as he marched into the room, looking from one face to another, and Tony cringed. _Cape…._

“Yes and no.”

“Okay that makes sense,” Tony frowned.

“I’ll elaborate, once everybody quits fidgeting and speaking up like kids.” The room fell silent pretty quickly at that, which was saying a lot considering how Thor kept tightening and loosening his grip on his hammer in agitation. “Good. Now, we have news,” Fury looked directly at Thor. “But not necessarily about your brother. Doctor Selvig picked up a small surge of energy near the old Tesseract base early this morning, similar to your Bifrost ones but directed differently, followed by another, stronger one about half an hour later. So far as we can tell from his study, they were both opened _into_ our world.”

“…So two openings point to two people, Loki and Amora, right?” Bruce finished, looking up.

“That’s what we’re thinking.”

“It is very possible that my brother’s trace may have been the weaker,” Thor said slowly, frowning. “If he remains in his bonds.”

“In which case she followed him here,” Tony sat forward suddenly, frowning. “He must’ve been running from her.”

Fury gave a nod. “At this point, an alliance between them is looking unlikely.”

“And this is clearly Amora’s game,” Natasha added. “Thor, how much more can you tell us about her?”

“She is somewhat of a renegade,” Thor set Mjolnir down and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the coffee table. “She seeks power only, and is known to have stolen much of her knowledge on sorcery from great Asgardians whom she had tricked to do her bidding.”

“Maybe she wants what Loki knows?” Clint gave a shrug.

“I believe our target should be Amora,” Fury interrupted before anyone else could throw guesses around. Clint was most likely right, though, Tony thought.  “From the sounds of it Loki is still half-bound, at least. He’s still got magic available to him, clearly, but he’s weak and he’s on the run. It’s Amora we gotta take down.”

“I will have them both taken back to Asgard to await their judgement, when it is done.” Thor sighed. “I apologize for the strife caused by my people.”

Fury almost looked amused at that. “I want you all on constant alert. None of you are to leave this building until we call for you. Loki can’t stay hidden forever and I’m guessing he’s not gonna go easy when she finds him, so once their location is known, you’re up.”

“So, wait, that’s the plan?” Tony frowned. “We’re using Loki as bait?”

“Problem, Stark?”

Tony pulled a face, not really sure if there was a problem or not. He was still beyond pissed at Loki for what happened, and not just because the bastard had used _his_ stuff for his plan to work, but he seemed like the victim in this situation. “Dunno… Asgard needs an Embassy or something here, seriously. How’re we sure they won’t get pissed up there if we let something happen to him?”

“…That’s a good point, actually.” Steve sounded reluctant to agree, and Tony definitely wasn’t offended at all. It was most probably because he wasn’t happy about feeling like he was taking Loki’s side on this, either. “If we’re the response team and we use him like that, let something happen to him, I can’t imagine Asgard would be happy. Thor?”

Thor scratched his chin with his thumb while he thought. “I am unsure. I would not like to see harm come to my brother at Amora’s hands, however deserving he is seen to be; I would see judgement passed on him like it would be on any other, not through a quarrel that is none of his doing.”

“And Thor’s the closest we got to an Ambassador, so,” Tony shrugged. He wasn’t sure he should’ve brought it up, but it just didn’t feel fair to him.

Fury gave a frustrated sigh. “Then how to you suggest we find her?”

“Well, if we find Loki, we find her, right?” Bruce asked, looking around at everyone. “So we—I don’t know, we catch Loki’s attention, somehow. If we get to him before she does, she’ll have to come to us.”

“And she’ll have struck the first blow,” Steve nodded, smiling at Bruce.

“How’re we supposed to get his attention, though?” Clint crossed his arms, leaning back in the couch. “Put an ad out?”

“…Or something like it,” Tony looked sideways at Steve. “Remember that time, on the jet, when Loki heard the thunder and he knew what was coming?”

Steve eyebrows rose, and they both turned to Thor. “Can Loki can tell your thunder from ordinary thunder, Thor?”

“We trained together for many hundreds of years, he would know me.”

“Okay, _new_ plan,” Fury took a deep breath, pushing his trench coat out of the way as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “In an hour you’re all gonna suit up and Thor’s gonna make some noise. Then we wait.”

“Sounds fun,” Bruce mumbled, clearly not taking to the ‘suit up’ comment.

 

 

*

 

 

 As it turned out, their new plan never came to be. Tony saw it as the universe giving him the middle finger when Fury’s original plan happened faster than their own, and didn’t bother holding back the profanities when Cap and Natasha came sprinting onto the roof where he was waiting for everyone, relaying the message that Selvig had picked up _very clear_ traces of a fight already. Amora was too quick for them.

“Have him send co-ordinates,” He said quickly, closing the faceplate on his helmet. “We’ll—you guys are flying, right?” He asked, looking from her to Clint as he jogged out onto the roof too, fully armed and suited up. Clint nodded, flexing his fingers and cracking them. “Okay, we’ll all fly; arrive at the same time, split up when we get there. Bruce,” he grinned from behind the helmet as Bruce and Thor joined then finally. “Hold it in a little longer; don’t think that jet can carry the big guy.”

Bruce shrugged, looking hilariously out of place among his teammates, unassuming and ordinary, and Thor slapped him lightly on the shoulder, encouragingly.

 

 

*

 

 

It was pretty reminiscent of the forest fight the day he’d met Thor when they arrived. Similar setting, at least, a lot of tree cover to block their view, too. They could use it, but it could just as easily be used against them. At least it was bright and the light of his reactor wouldn’t draw too much attention. One less thing.

They could see the signs of the fight already, and it was nothing like Tony’d ever seen. He caught sight of Thor and Loki fighting before, but a fight between Loki and a _sorceress_ —from what they could see he was actually managing to hold his own, though barely. He seemed to be focussing on his defences rather than attacks of any kind.

“Open the doors, we have to get out there!” Cap called over the sound of the engines, Thor gripping his hammer as another flash of magic and an ominous rumbling noise reached them. Natasha obliged, while Clint manoeuvred them over a small clearing on an overhang of rock overlooking the fight below. The roots of the trees there found little purchase and a few were actually ripped from the ground and flung away by the force of the jet descending.

Almost as soon as the door was lowered enough, Thor threw himself from it, heading directly for the fight, and Tony swore loudly as Cap hurried to the edge, crouching, ready to jump after him. “Keep an eye out for the big dude, Cap!” Tony called. “I don’t see him yet!”

Cap didn’t turn, just gave a wave of a hand to show he’d heard, before launching himself after Thor once they were low enough. Tony took a quick look at Bruce, who gave him a nervous smile and thumbs up, before he followed.

Amora was—well, she was making an _impressive_ first impression, Tony decided, already holding Thor off while he and Cap arrived on scene, her eyes and hands glowing with the same green, her yellow hair whipping around her with every blast she sent in their direction. Tony kept above her, for now, watching as Thor deflected a blast with his hammer and Cap caught one with his shield, pushed back a little in the process. He couldn’t see Loki anywhere anymore.

“You are surrounded, Enchantress!” Thor roared. “Surrender!”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tony noticed that the noise of the jet engines had quieted, replaced by the rush of wind coming from Amora. She let out a laugh at Thor’s demands, throwing her head back slightly as she did so, her voice clear despite the interference around her. Thor made for her again, with Cap covering him, so Tony flew higher and scanned the area. Natasha and Clint were moving through the thick trees behind Amora to her left, unnoticed. No sign of Bruce, Skurge, _or_ Loki yet.

“Jarvis, can you get some sort of read on Amora’s energy?”

_“What am I searching for, sir?”_

“I dunno, do—check for any disturbances around her, magnetic fields, forms of radiation, heat, electricity, check if there’s anything similar nearby, we need to find Lo—“

Before he could finish, there came what Tony couldn’t only describe as a huge tearing noise, as Amora called out, “Executioner, I need you!”

Thor wasn’t wrong when he said the guy was taller than him. He was definitely over seven foot, Tony estimated as he stepped from the whirling hole in—well, in mid-air—huge arms wielding the biggest axe he’d ever _seen_ , running directly at Thor. Amora hadn’t factored in Hulk, though, who chose that moment to burst through the treeline, snarling, tackling Skurge with a force that would have killed an ordinary man. They tumbled back into the trees, splinters flying everywhere as branches broke all around them and birds flying off, cawing frantically.

They disturbed more than birds though, Tony noticed as he caught a dim flash of light. A second later, another flash came no more than thirty feet away, and Loki appeared, doubled over with an arm crossed tightly against his chest, hair covering his face. With Hulk taking care of Skurge and Amora surrounded by the rest of the team, Tony made a decision and dived toward him.

Up close, Loki looked even weaker than the day of his failed invasion, a thin veil of sweat covering his face, his hands a deep red, covered in blood. It looked like it took every effort for him to look up and straighten himself when Tony landed with a huge thud in the grass next to him, and he raised the hand not clutched against his chest threateningly—but nothing happened.

It occurred to Tony, as _he_ watched Loki standing there watching _him_ , breathing heavy and laboured, eyes wide, skin pale, armour torn and hand shaking, that he couldn’t get away. He couldn’t teleport himself any further than Tony’d just seen, and that the hand he had raised sure as hell wasn’t gonna do anything. On closer inspection, Tony realised that while the chain had been removed, the cuffs they’d placed around his wrists were still there. Thor had produced them for Loki, assuring everyone that they’d dull his magic, and combined with the muzzle, he was virtually powerless.

“Give it up, Loki, I’m actually _not_ gonna threaten you this time,” Tony said, repulsors pointed downwards, away from him.

Loki’s eyes narrowed and he shook his heading, breathing out a quiet, “ _What..?_ ”

“I know right, politics. Don’t have time to explain, but—“

He was cut short and they both looked up to their right, Loki almost losing his balance as he did so, as Thor suddenly flew through the air past them, crashing into the rock overhang and landing in a heap. Skurge burst through the trees after him, swinging his axe wildly, cutting a path for himself as he lunged right toward Loki.

“Stark, remove the cuffs,” Loki said tightly, backing away, not taking his eyes off Skurge.

Tony followed suit, raising his palms to face Skurge as he came closer and closer. “I can’t—!“

“If _you_ intent to live to bring _me_ in alive, _remove the cuffs!_ ”

Tony wasn’t sure if it was the urgency in his voice, the genuine fear in his eyes, or the blood-curdling roar Skurge gave as he was almost upon them, but he quickly grabbed Loki’s offered hands, the mechanics in his right repulsor twisting as they recalibrated themselves. The laser was really only for constructive purposes, added when he was modifying the Stark Tower, but there wasn’t enough time, Skurge was almost on them and he had his hand aimed at one of the cuffs, willing it to break as he and Loki both shut their eyes when Skurge jumped, axe raised—

And then it broke the world started to fall apart around Tony.

Skurge disappeared as reality seemed to melt, the ground falling away, followed by the trees, the sky, the clouds, the noises from the fight—He was still holding tight to Loki’s hand, and he felt like he was speeding hundreds of miles per hour through nothingness, only white, until other colours were also catching in the corner of his vision, reds, blues, yellows—

A vast plane of white was rushing toward them, and Tony shut his eyes, bracing himself, until his feet touched solid ground again and the motion stopped so suddenly that his knees buckled, and he would have fallen to his knees if not for the suit. Loki did, though, halfway at least, being held up slightly by the hand that Tony still held onto.

“Whooaahh,” Tony turned, catching Loki under his other arm until he found his own balance leaning on Tony, head down. It was only when he had his hands away from his chest that Tony noticed the wound there, definitely from the tip of Skurge’s axe. As they stood there catching their breath, Tony supporting the half-conscious God of Mischief, he looked up to get his bearings, frowning. It was night, suddenly, and he couldn’t see anything but snow, ice, and rocks. He could see for miles in one direction, but there was just—nothing. Hills, covered and frozen, and there was a huge tale-telling whirling cloud of a blizzard in the other direction. Whether it was coming toward them or heading away from them, Tony wasn’t sure, but it was bigger than anything he’d ever seen in New York.

“Where the hell did you take us, Antarctica?” He mumbled. For some reason he didn’t want to talk too loud when they were surrounded by nothing but a winter wasteland, and when Loki looked like he’d fall apart if Tony just poked him. It _definitely_ wouldn’t look good if he died in the middle of nowhere on his own with Tony.

Loki gave a huffing sound, taking a few more deep breaths before managing to straighten himself and look around…. Then his face fell and he stumbled, eyes wide again. “Oh no….”

Tony pulled on his hand, steadying him again, stomach sinking at the look on Loki’s face. “What. _What_. Not _‘oh no’_. What’d you do?”

“I—We are in Jotunheim…” Loki whispered.

“Uhm. _What?_ ” Tony lifted his free hand, raising the faceplate and wincing a little at the cold that suddenly hit him. “We’re _where?!_ Why did you—“

“I couldn’t control it,” Loki snapped suddenly, eyes moving quickly as he looked around. “I had only time to weave the spell to lead me away, not _define_ where it—“

“Why did you take _me_ with you?!”

Loki lifted his hand in reply; the one Tony still gripped the wrist of, and raised an eyebrow.

Tony swore. “Okay, okay, well—No big deal, there’s no, uh, natives around, just take us back.”

Loki lowered his hand, frowning again as he looked around, breathing a little steadier now.

“Uh, Loki?” Tony tilted his head to keep Loki’s face in sight. “Wanna start waving the jazz hands right about now?”

“Do you not think I would by now if I could?” Loki responded, taking a few shaky steps forward into the snow, and Tony followed.

“What, need me to zap the other cuff?”

“It would be appreciated, yes, though not immediately beneficial to either of us.”

“….You better be fucking joking….”

Loki sighed, turning to face Tony. “You may have _noticed_ ,” he started, exasperatedly. “But my strength is not what it was. It took much of my last reserves just for us to escape that _buffoon_.”

Tony held back another string of profanities, taking a deep breath instead. “So you’re out of juice. How do you—top up? Gimme _something_ to work with, here.”

“I wait.”

“….In a hostile world full of guys who want you dead.” This was looking worse and worse every minute. Tony needed Loki to get back; if he died, he was screwed. How would anyone know how or where to find them?

“I see you finally understand our predicament.” Loki exhaled sharply, eyes falling half-way closed while he leaned precariously to one side, close to falling. Tony moved forward quickly, grabbing him by the elbow and looking around biting his lip.

“You sure you’re not gonna—you know, bite the dust before then? That’d be awkward.”

Loki closed his eyes, actually breathing out a laugh. “I will heal, I—my strength returns slowly, but if I do not use it for this…” He raised a weak arm, gesturing vaguely at his chest. “…then yes, it is possible.”

“Then you better not start napping yet, at least, if we’re gonna lay low I’m gonna need to know what you know,” Tony said nervously, noticing that the blizzard was definitely coming in their direction, slowly. “We gotta find cover for starters, somewhere—“

“There will be caves,” Loki opened his eyes, narrowing them in the direction of the frozen hills before them. “If we reach one on time, we can… begin to plan, I suppose.” He didn’t sound any happier than Tony felt about being stuck in a cave with each other for company for who knew how long, but it was definitely their best bet for now.

“Better start looking, then,” Tony grumbled, rearranging his grip on Loki’s arm, keeping him supported. “Yay….”

 

 

*

 

 

Looking didn’t go to well at first. They went for the hills closest to them first, and true to Loki’s words, there were caves, but Loki shook his head at each one, explaining the signs of recent use and that they couldn’t risk whoever had been using it returning while they were there. Tony definitely agreed—he’d never seen a Frost Giant before, but he’d learned enough after the incident two months ago to know that he  really didn’t feel like meeting one on their turf on his own, with no one but a half-dead Loki for back-up. Not that he believed Loki would’ve backed him up if he were in good health anyway. In fact, once he was showing signs of recovering, Tony was pretty sure he was gonna have to keep hands on Loki at all times in case he decided it would be nice to leave Tony behind, and Tony already felt awkward just thinking about it.

Eventually, they had to rethink their idea when the snow started, and after a quick discussion that Loki’s pride lost to Tony’s logic, Tony had to pick him up and fly them away from the cluster of caves they had been searching, with the oncoming blizzard for cover in case they were spotted.

Loki picked an empty looking, frozen-over valley for them to stop in, directing Tony to an overhang he was pretty sure could’ve been a waterfall once. He wondered if it was possible, and how much Loki knew about this place he was born in, and whether it was wise to ask, but put the thought aside for later as he blasted the cave deeper and deeper, Loki watching careful for signs of it caving in.

When it was deep enough, Loki pretty much stumbled until he was in the very back of the cave, leaning his back against the rock and sliding down until he was sitting again.

“The blizzard will mask any sign of your interference, from a distance,” he explained, eyes drifting closed as he tilted his head back to rest against the cave wall. “Though you may need to blast your way out again if it’s necessary to leave…”

Tony made his way in a little slower, carefully, trying not to think of the last time he spent an extended amount of time in a cave. It was so long ago now, it wasn’t something that he’d think back on to find he couldn’t breathe right when he remembered anymore, but he still wasn’t exactly comfortable. It had been too warm, in those caves; any tiny breeze became a relief unlike any he’d known before. This was the complete opposite; the suit could only keep out so much of the cold. His arc reactor led the way, lighting up their surroundings and illuminating Loki where he lay. The shadows only made the pallor in his face more pronounced.

“Necessary to leave?” He repeated, watching his repulsor recalibrate itself for the second time that day. “How long’s this likely to take?”

Loki gave a weak, one-shouldered shrug and didn’t open his eyes while Tony fired up the laser and broke the second cuff. “Up to a week, at times. Though with the injury, longer, perhaps.”

He had to be joking. “Uhh—I can’t stay in here like this for a week, Loki, I’ll _freeze_ to death?”

Loki opened his eyes then, frowning at Tony as if he just remembered he was human. “Ah, yes…. Shame.”

“Okay, no, clearly you don’t understand your position here,” Tony gritted his teeth suddenly, charging the other repulsor and aiming it at Loki, threateningly. “For starters, if I’m gonna freeze to death out here anyway, what’s to stop me taking you to the other side with me?”

Loki’s eyes were fully open and alert now, looking from the palm of Tony’s hand, to his face, expressionlessly. Tony could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes, though; there was such a visible intelligence in Loki’s eyes, it’d almost humbled him at times. _Almost._

“Secondly,” Tony continued. “I suppose you’re gonna fight your own way to survival if somebody drops in on you if I freeze, yeah?”

“What do you want from me, then?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow, and Tony shrugged.

“Little consideration’d be nice, but right now you can start telling me how to find what we need. Something to burn, source of food, I’m pretty sure you gotta eat too…?”

“You will find neither in a blizzard,” Loki said tiredly through an exhale. “…But I will tell you what I know.”

 

 

*

 

 

The first day was impossibly boring from Tony’s point of view. The blizzard kept up for the rest of the day—or was it night? It was hard to tell in this place, but he had Jarvis to time things so that he didn’t mess up his body clock. He didn’t exactly keep very normal hours anyway, but knowing what time it was kept him somewhat sane, at least.

Loki slept. Tony did diagnostics on his suit, making sure everything made it through the teleportation in one piece. He wasn’t sure that’s what it was called, but he was told Loki had methods different to the Bifrost for travelling between worlds, so he was calling it teleportation for now.

Loki continued to sleep. Tony ended up sitting closer, after a while, checking regularly between dozing off every now  and again himself, that he was still alive. He felt like he should be doing something, but he figured Loki’s magic must be helping, because the exposed skin around the wound definitely wasn’t as swollen as when Tony had first spotted it.

Around the ten hour mark, he removed his gauntlets, flexing his fingers against the cold, so that he could pull the remains of Loki’s chest plate away delicately. Loki probably should’ve done this himself before he fell asleep, but Tony had a feeling he was a lot more exhausted than he’d been letting him think. He’d fallen asleep in the position he’d sat down in, one hand at his side and the other on his stomach, head tilted to the side. He looked… smaller than Tony remembered him, it was weird. He wasn’t wearing the big armour he had on before, he was in some sort of lighter, leather getup, and the chest plate was flimsy, probably ceremonial. It wasn’t of much use anymore, that was for sure, he though, as he threw it aside, leaning closer to pull away the material and get a good look at the wound.

It really didn’t look good. Tony was far from being any sort of medical expert, he knew what he needed to know with regards to his reactor and taking care of that, but even he could tell that the blow Loki’d taken from that axe would have killed somebody else. He remembered Thor, when he’d last seen him, being hurled through the air by Skurge, and hoped he hadn’t taken a similar hit. The wound definitely didn’t look as bad, he was still sure about that, and the swelling _had_ gone down, but two things worried him.

First of all, he could _see_ muscle and bone, which—well, ew, that definitely wasn’t great. Secondly, rather than being bright red and swollen, the skin had begun scarring over itself, but it was _blue_ ; completely blue, but only around the wound, his neck, face and hands were still the usual colour.

Tony remembered Thor explaining Loki’s heritage, after the whole ‘he is adopted’ thing. Loki was a Frost Giant, he knew that, but far from the same kind Skurge was, whatever that was. He and Loki were the only ones he’d ever seen before; Thor didn’t sound sure that Skurge was from Jotunheim anyway, and Loki was Asgardian in appearance, so he couldn’t base any information from either of them, really. Apart from that, all he knew was that they were supposed to be huge and blue.

He felt awkward, all of a sudden, and pushed the fabric back to cover his chest. It didn’t bother him, not really, he actually found it pretty interesting, found himself wondering what Loki looked like when he was in full Frost Giant form, but the more he thought about it, the more awkward he felt. From the way he talked about the Asgardians, Tony figured Loki would’ve shed the Asgardian appearance a while ago, but he didn’t. He didn’t want anyone to see this, and though Tony couldn’t help that his mind automatically imagined Loki blue all over, lying looking small like now, he still felt bad about doing it.

It was something he could identify with, sort of. He knew he was nowhere near being as messed up as Loki was, because Thor had made that clear; Loki was pretty nuts—but he knew what it was like to have part of you that you didn’t want people to see or draw attention to, even if everyone knew about it. He put on a front for pretty much everyone but Pepper every day, because he didn’t want them to see the selfish, mangled person he was beneath the charisma and the illusion of self-love. He was definitely self-obsessed, he knew that and was self-obsessed enough to be able to admit it, but not in the way most people thought he was.

There was also the reactor; yeah, sure everybody, it’s real impressive isn’t it, my greatest success, my Dad’s brainchild that _he_ couldn’t finish but that _I could_ , pretty cool, huh? Not the constant reminder that he _should_ have died that day, killed by his own weapons, punishment for what he’d brought on the world, making him feel like more of a machine than he already was, scarring his chest horribly.

He wondered if Loki ever wanted to turn it around and use it differently, like he did; like a terrible privilege, he’d told Bruce, or if he just hid it like this all the time, where nobody could see and where he wasn’t forced to see the physical evidence as well as the mental issues.

He fell asleep later, leaning with his back against the wall beside Loki, appearing peaceful but for the frown that stayed in place as he drifted off thinking himself in circles about it and worrying over the fact that, _shit, I think I just identified myself with a supervillain._

 

 

*

 

 

“Stark.”

Tony pulled a face, trying to blink himself awake against his better judgement, attempting to stretch only to find his movements hindered by the suit, and his uncovered hands uncooperative.

“Stark, wake up,” he heard Loki next to him, felt the mild shove against his shoulder, and tried to turn his head only to find his neck as stiff as his hands.

“….Ow…” he grumbled, and his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Shit, what—“

“Night has fallen, the temperature has dropped. It wasn’t advisable for you to sleep like this.”

Tony finally opened his eyes, and saw that it was definitely darker. He could barely see anything now, except what was lit by his reactor. “I thought it _was_ night,” he whispered, frowning at Loki who seemed totally unaffected. Oh yeah, Frost Giant, he thought, guiltily remembering the skin on his chest last night.

“Jotunheim is never lit in its day, not in the like of Midgard or Asgard,” Loki explained. “Its sun is too far away. I should have explained before…” He trailed off, actually sounding genuinely regretful for a second, and Tony tried to see his hands, panicking a little.

“Uh—is it bad?” His voice cracked a little as he attempted to speak louder, swallowing.

“It could be worse,” Loki supplied unhelpfully. Move your fingers until you have sensation again, then replace your—your gloves,” he instructed, pausing for a moment when he wasn’t sure what to call the gauntlets. “Why did you remove them?”

Tony lifted his hands into the light of the reactor. They were pink and pinched from the cold, and felt about three times bigger than they were; as he balled his hands into fists then spread his fingers, repeating the movement. “I was making sure you were still breathing,” he said, his voice no longer coming in a whisper, but still hoarse.

Loki didn’t reply, but Tony felt him move, settling himself against the wall of the cave again. Neither of them spoke while Tony regained the feeling in his hands, pulling his gauntlets back on as soon as he could. According to Jarvis’ time, they’d been gone for thirty-seven hours now.

“How did we sleep so _long_?” He wondered aloud, shaking his head.

“The cold, I suspect, for your part at least,” Loki answered quietly from the darkness. His voice sounded almost as hoarse as Tony’s, but dry rather than constricted. “My recovery required more energy than I could muster while awake, it seems.”

“How much did it help?” Tony asked, squinting at him but not seeing much.

“The pain is less, but the wound still requires attention,” Loki’s voice went sour as he spoke, obviously hating every second of not being at his strongest. “I feel….tired.”

 “Does it need anything your magic can’t do?”

“The wound?” Loki shrugged. “No. I will need sustenance, though. Soon whatever magic I recover will use itself as energy to keep me alive.”

It wasn’t until then that Tony became aware of how hungry he already was, which wasn’t surprising considering he’d been gone almost two days already and hadn’t eaten anything.

“Night is good for hunting,” Loki said suddenly. “There are wolves in these wildernesses, kill one and it should be enough, for the week. The coat will lessen your chances of freezing.”

“If you know how to do the do with it when it’s caught, I can do the catching, I guess,” Tony offered. He had no idea where to start skinning or cooking anything caught wild. He wasn’t even sure he liked the idea of using it’s coat if he’d seen it alive beforehand, but he figured if he had no choice, he was gonna have to.

Loki seemed to agree with that idea, at least. “Do not fly, you will be seen. Bring ice, also, plenty of it, for water, and three large-sized stones, perhaps.”

Tony was tempted to ask about the stones, but was hungry enough to go with it for now. Loki still seemed too weak for them to be for anything sinister, and he probably knew what he was doing, going by Thor’s hunting stories in the common room.

Tony pulled himself slowly to his feet, his joints still protesting from the cold. He was pretty anxious to get going for that reason, too. “So what do these things look like?”

“Like wolves,” Loki answered with a huff, and let out a short laugh when Tony stared down at him, unimpressed. “They look typical of a Midgardian—Come here,” Loki raised a hand, and Tony watched suspiciously at first.

“…I better not regret this,” he mumbled, bending over until Loki could touch his index and middle finger to Tony’s temple. An image flashed through his mind of—well, it did look like a typical snowy wolf but bigger, and with less grey through its fur, blending more with the snow behind it in the image.

“They camouflage well,” Loki lowered his hand to rest on his stomach again. “But I assume you have devices for locating them.”

“Maybe,” Tony said, grinning and closing the face plate. He knew better than to sit and tell Loki what his suit could and couldn’t do. “I’ll just pop to the shop, then,” he said, putting on a ridiculously thick New York accent. “Back in ten, honey.”

Loki just sat where he was and stared at Tony’s back as he left, slightly horrified.

 

 

*

 

 

Jotunheim on a clear night was even creepier than it was when Tony’d arrived. There was an ominous stillness to everything, everything dead and unmoving. Even the stars looked too far away, and there was no moon visible. There was a crushing sense of loneliness, of nothingness, here, and it was a lot different to how he’d imagined it from Thor’s stories. Thor had described ruins of a once great city, stone pillars so high that they broke through the clouds in some places, though he supposed Loki probably took a lot of that out before Thor broke the Bifrost. Loki’d mentioned something about a wilderness, so Tony supposed there was of course the chance that, given that Jotunheim was a whole world; they’d managed to land far away from the place Thor had described.

He climbed out of the valley easily, tempted to just fly out, but keeping in mind the amount of regularly used caves they’d found not far away, and really not wanting to attract unwanted attention. The temptation to get some music going in his ears was heavy, too, just to hear something that wasn’t himself, but he didn’t want to be distracted in such a hostile environment. _Find the wolves, three large rocks, ice_ , he repeated to himself. _Wolves, rocks, ice…._

 

 

*

 

 

He decided to go for the wolves, first, given that the heat they were giving off would be picked up easily by Jarvis, and sure enough, within half an hour he was returning to the cave after shooting one once, quietly, in the head. It was definitely bigger than the snow wolves in Earth, and it actually had a second row of teeth behind the first ones, which he wished Loki could’ve shown him or at least mentioned, just so that he wasn’t so surprised.

When he mentioned this, Loki just smirked and said, “Things on Midgard only have one row of teeth?”

Tony was pretty sure _Thor_ only had one row of teeth, so he didn’t rise to that joke.

He had to remove a small, sharp drill from the wrist joint of one of his gauntlets to leave Loki with, to do everything he needed to do with the wolf, and ignored the amused grin on Loki’s face when he left quickly for the other necessities. Another pro of going for the wolf first; he could busy himself while Loki took care of the nasty stuff.

Turned out finding a few big rocks wasn’t that hard and didn’t take too long. Neither did finding ice in Jotunheim, believe it or not. He tried waiting at the mouth of the cave until Loki was finished, but he made Tony bring him the rocks and the ice, insisting he needed them, not bothering to hide the huge grin as Tony refused to look away from either Loki or the cave roof, before exiting the cave again, seating himself at the mouth of the cave instead.

“I wouldn’t have believed you to be queasy,” Loki commented casually after twenty minutes or so, his voice echoing.

“I’m not,” Tony replied, keeping his own voice just as casual.

“Then you won’t object to returning and giving me some light to work with?”

“Do you need it?” He’d been working for twenty minutes and hadn’t complained about the darkness yet.

“No,” he laughed. “Do you not enjoy the sight of the blood?”

“Does anyone actually enjoy the sight of blood?” Tony frowned, staring up at the weird constellations. Or maybe it was the same ones, just from a different point of view? “I mean, I get that it doesn’t bother some people, but does anyone actually _enjoy_ it?”

“The universe is filled with many different personalities. It is not only possible, but certain, that there are some who would enjoy it.”

“Do you?”

“Not _particularly_ ,” he said vaguely, and Tony heard a noise that sounding sort of like terracotta bumping. “But it does not bother me.”

“It doesn’t bother me, either,” Tony elaborated after a moment. “I just don’t want to be able to recognise that big guy as what I’m eating.”

“Or wrapping around yourself while you sleep...”

“…Thanks.”

“Wash it in the snow, if it bothers you very much.”

He could almost feel Loki’s amusement radiating from within the cave, and found himself smiling a little in spite of it. It was a little stupid of him, he knew, natural selection and predators and all that, he just didn’t particularly care, either. He heard a shuffling in the cave behind him, then footsteps, and he made to look over his shoulder to see what was going on.

“You may wish to keep your eyes trained on the stars, it will be easier on your weak conscience,” Loki said, and though Tony could hear the teasing edge to his voice and knew it was intended to mock him, he was actually surprised Loki bothered to warn him at all.

“Are you able to carry that on your own?” he asked, curiously, and Loki snorted.

“At my strongest, I am as strong as twenty or more of you, mortal,” he said, dropping whatever was left of the dead wolf in the snow. Tony, unable to help himself, drew his eyes away from the sky and watched as Loki, with his back to him, kicked snow over it. “I’ve recovered enough physical strength to be equal to you, if not stronger.” He started turning, and Tony looked up again quickly. “Even more once I’ve eaten.”

He didn’t move immediately, so Tony looked back again to find Loki watching him, eyes narrowed and head tilted slightly.

“What?”

Loki smirked and shook his head, wiping his hands on his trousers and making his way back into the cave.

 

 

*

 

 

 Loki’s plans for the rocks had apparently been to shape one into a large bowl, another into a knife, and to leave the last one in the corner, probably in case he needed it later. He was back to sitting on the floor of the cave, near the wall while he continued to work, and Tony sat across from him, wincing. “I’m gonna need to take this thing off soon, it kills to fall asleep in…” He mumbled as he lowered himself down, more for the sake of speaking than anything else. Loki just gave a hum in response, and Tony stared at the stone bowl, frowning as the ice melted in Loki’s hand into it. “How’re you doing all this? I thought you were— Uhh, all out.”

“I am sparing some energy for this rather than the wound,” he said without looking up. “It is necessary for our continued survival. A fire is too much of a risk, so these will do.”

“You never told me what tapped you out, anyway.” Tony prompted, suddenly curious, and Loki looked up, raising one eyebrow at him. “It means—“

“I know what it means,” he interrupted, flicking his fingers to let the water drip off as the ice melted, lifting the bowl. “I was wondering over your complete lack of tact.”

Tony watched Loki lifting the bowl and taking a long sip of the water, placing it on the floor again and pushing it toward Tony as he turned and pulled his broken chest plate toward himself. “Didn’t realise your feelings were that delicate,” he grinned and took a long drink, surprised to find he was a lot thirstier than he thought he was. Not surprising after almost two days with no water.

“It was Amora,” Loki’s tone dropped dangerously as he spoke, and it occurred to Tony that Loki’s pride was probably getting in the way of him admitting what had happened. “She would not have succeeded if I hadn’t been bound.” He diced up a large piece of wolf meat, using his chest plate as a makeshift chopping board.

“Why did she bust you out just to try to kill you?”

The corner of Loki’s mouth curled into a small smirk. “I suppose you’ve all been puzzling over that for some days now.”

“Just a little,” Tony set the bowl of water down again, figuring there was no harm in admitting it.

“She wished to use me as a bargain,” Loki pulled a face as he scraped the diced meat into the bowl of water and set the chest plate and stone knife to the side, placing his hands on either side of the bowl and holding them there. “She is normally a clever woman, but she expects the Allfather susceptible to sentiment where I am concerned. Thor, perhaps, but Thor does not hold the power. She would return me unharmed if she was reward with this, that, or the other,” he finished, rolling his eyes. Steam began rising from the bowl.

That hadn’t occurred to any of them, and _definitely_ not to Thor. They all assumed it was either an alliance of a fight, something personal between Loki and Amora.

“And you escaped?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Loki shrugged. “Play along, and I either die by the hands of Amora or by the Allfather. It was the perfect opportunity to escape.”

“You couldn’t be sure he was gonna execute you, though,” Tony pointed out. “That’s why Thor had us—“

“You do not know Odin,” Loki said sharply, glaring at Tony, the light of the reactor casting shadows under his eyes. “He will not spare me, and I do not wish for his mercy or his pity.”

Tony fell silent, while Loki cast his eyes back to the bowl. Neither of them spoke for a while, Loki fuming, probably, and Tony wondering over the nerve he’d poked. It was weird, when he knew the general story behind what happened from what Thor had told everyone, to sit here and see Loki living through it. He thought over his sentence _, I do not wish for his mercy or his pity…_

“What about his respect?” He asked quietly.

Loki looked up again, eyes narrowed dangerously. “What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Tony held his hands up innocently. “I just—I understand. I think. Just making conversation, it’s not like we got much else to do.”

“You understand.” Loki repeated with a shake of his head, and a condescending smile. “Of _course_ you do. _Do_ feel free to elaborate on how you, you _‘see my point of view’_ , or that I am some sort of sad victim, it will be entertaining at least.”

“You think _I’m_ gonna call you a victim? Did you forget about hurling me through window, or about how you used _my_ designs for _your_ plan?”

Loki grinned wider. “You should not have made it so tempting to, advertising it with your name in big letters and bright lights.”

“Yeah, _my_ name. I get that you had it tough and shit, but you’re still an asshole.”

“In that case, I’m curious,” Loki reached out with one hand for the stone knife, leaning over and poking it through some of the diced meat. “What benefit would you take from _understanding_?”

“I wasn’t talking for benefit, I was just _talking_ , jesus,” Tony sighed. He was feeling pretty done with this conversation now, though; not only was Loki getting on his nerves, but he was getting worried over how wide their common ground kept getting. The fact that Loki was so suspicious of Tony trying to understand was on the growing list of things Tony could identify with, which was a bad sign when the person involved was the super villain of the century.

“Continue to talk, then.” Loki said after a few moments of silence, without looking up from the bowl. “You were about to tell of an experience of yours, I assume.”

“No.” Tony watched him poke at the meat but not really paying attention. He didn’t have much choice; there wasn’t much to see in this darkness. “I was just asking a question.”

“I know much of you. Well—I know some of Barton knew of you. He held much respect for your father on behalf of his organisation. What makes you think he was similar to the Allfather?”

“I didn’t say he was,” Tony really didn’t want to start trading childhood stories in a dark cave with someone with someone with as many father issues as Loki had. He didn’t like talking about his own father on a good day, never mind when he was sore, cold, hungry and stranded in fucking Jotunheim. He noticed a few moments after Loki stopped his ministrations with the food that he was staring at Tony, looking up to find him regarding him expressionlessly, before inhaling quickly but gently.

“Ah, you were implying that you and I were similar in that respect,” He guessed aloud.

Tony refused to agree or disagree, and sat in stony silence instead.

“What purpose does the machine in your chest serve?”

The sudden change of subject took Tony off guard. “Uhh—what?”

“You wished to fill the silence. Tell me how this came about,” he nodded toward the reactor.

Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about that either, or why Loki had changed the subject. He was sharp enough to pick up on what Tony had meant, but he hadn’t poked at him in an attempt to prove him wrong about understanding, either. He wasn’t sure what was worse; the fact that he sympathised with the bad guy, or that the bad guy seemed to sympathise enough with him, too, to spare him that conversation. It actually frightened him a little, as he stared back at Loki to find him still watching him steadily, expectantly. “Didn’t Barton tell you?”

“I did not look for the information from him while his mind was mine,” Loki gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I had not seen you without the armour before then; I wasn’t aware it was part of your body, not part of the suit.”

Tony nodded. It made sense. Should he tell him what it was? Loki wasn’t gonna kill him out here in Jotunheim; they needed each other for the next week, maybe. He already knew to avoid the reactor if he wanted to mess with Tony’s head, and he didn’t have his sceptre, anyway. It wasn’t like it was any weaker a spot than his heart or his neck or something, anyway; it was actually more difficult to break through.

“It’s a magnet,” he said eventually. “A powerful electro-magnet.”

“Yes,” Loki nodded, apparently having sensed that already. “I could feel it. But why?”

“I was hurt, a while back, it was a weapon I’d designed, but it—there’re tiny bits of shrapnel from the explosion,” he said, gesturing without much accuracy across his torso. “In my blood, if it goes through my heart, it—yeah. Not good. The magnet keeps them in place, the reactor powers it.”

“I had assumed it was to power your suit alone,” Loki muttered, not bothering to be inconspicuous about staring at it. “I’d wondered about the magnet. Your weapon caused this?”

“Yep.” Tony felt tired when he thought about it, but there was some sort of weird detachment involved in trying to explain to someone who knew nothing. Nearly everyone who knew his name, and that was a lot of people, knew about what happened, but when explaining it to someone with almost no idea—it wasn’t the same as feeling it all over again, it was like every word that left him was taking something with it. “Obadiah Stane, he was a friend, my dad’s friend. He looked after me, helped run the company, and he was selling to terrorist groups and anyone else with the money, basically. I designed them for military use, and he knew, so he tried to get rid of me, hired some guys and staged it as a terrorist attack. Long story short, anyway.”

Loki’s eyes flicked up to Tony’s before he frowned and looked back at the reactor. “I see…”

Tony wasn’t really sure what Loki was seeing, exactly. He’d barely told him anything; hadn’t told him about Yinsen, about how Obie was the father he’d never had, how it felt to be betrayed by someone that close to—except maybe that _was_ what Loki was seeing. Obie wasn’t exactly his adoptive father, but he’d filled the role for a while, or rather, he’d pretended to.

“Loki your hands are blue,” Tony said suddenly. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t a great way to break it to him, but he’d looked down and hey—his hands were blue.

Loki said something harshly, a word Tony didn’t recognise, and dropped the bowl, the diced meat actually well boiled at this stage. He stood in one quick motion, turning his back on Tony and standing there, head bent and silent. Tony wasn’t sure whether to get up or not, or what to say, or what the hell Loki was even doing; but he was spared the decision when Loki turned around again, blue gone from his hands again, eyes dark.

“Um—“

“I have used enough doing this,” he said quickly, _glaring_ at the bowl. “No more today.” He nudged the stone knife in Tony’s direction, letting it roll noisily across the cave floor, and bent to retrieve Tony’s drill head for himself. He returned to his seat, stabbing at a bit of meat to catch it on the tip of the drill head, both posture and expression discouraging any further conversation.

 

 

*

 

 

Loki didn’t speak much after that. Night and days lasted a lot longer in Jotunheim than in Migar— _Earth, Tony, Earth, what the fuck—_ than they did in _Earth_ , so after they’d eaten and had enough water, they decided without really speaking that sleep was a better way to pass the time than talking, for a while. More productive to their survival and not as risky as talking, at least, since it turned out they were both pretty touchy, who knew? Tony added it to his list of things to be worried about later, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

*

 

 

“Do you think they caught Amora and Skurge?” Tony asked on the fifth day. The closest thing to daylight Jotunheim could manage had come some hours ago, and Loki was taking advantage of the light to stand at the mouth of the cave with his back to Tony, examining his wound. Tony only really asked to try to give Loki something to distract himself with; as he was pretty sure he was just realizing his chest was blue this whole time.

“….Perhaps. Amora has not found us yet,” he said, turning and walking back into the cave. “And I have felt no disturbances that would suggest she has come in search of us, though I doubt even _she_ would follow _here_.”

Tony nodded slowly and relaxed against the wall again, legs crossed. He’d removed the Mark VII when he woke with cramps everywhere, and had left it folded in the back of the cave. He made sure the bracelets were on tight, though, and wrapped himself in the make-shift blanket of wolf fur. The bodysuit he wore under his suit when he had time to prepare was made of insulated material, thankfully, which helped, but he still wondered if he’d ever be warm again. He was relieved to find Loki didn’t seem too worked up over the chest thing, though, and felt it was safe to ask him about it now.

“Injury looking good?”

“You know, as the God of Mischief and Lies, I’ve become quite skilled at telling when someone is lying, or withholding information,” he said, sitting cross legged against the opposite wall and picking up a piece of wolf meat, chewing on it contemplatively. “Learning the truth is trickier, however, though not in this case. You should have told me what you saw.”

Given the way he’d closed off all angry and shaken before, Tony knew he had to continue carefully, biting his lip as he considered what to say.

“I did not remove my own chest plate on the first day, Tony, and I am not dense.”

That was—That was definitely the first time he remembered Loki calling him _Tony_ , and he couldn’t resist looking at him sideways, out of the corner of his eye, not sure whether to be surprised, suspicious, both, or something else entirely.

“I wasn’t sure if it’d go away or not,” he said, keeping his voice level. “And I didn’t think you wanted to know.”

Loki continued to chew, staring at Tony, and swallowing before he spoke again. “I would rather have known. I could not see it, myself, and I would have expected….yesterday.”

He’d definitely calmed down about it, if he was talking about it. He and Loki had spent enough time stuck in each other’s company now that they were picking up on little things about each other, and giving up on hiding other quirks when there was no point. They knew when to take each other’s words as a prompt for discussion, and when to drop it. Loki was prompting him.

“I figured you hid it for a reason,” he explained properly, with a shrug. “I can get that, so I didn’t bring it up.”

Clearly that wasn’t the answer Loki had been expecting, and he blinked, before nodding, accepting the answer. “Magic holds the illusion in place,” he said, placing a hand over the material covering his chest. “When I am exhausted or conserving it, this is a side-effect, it seems. I had no reason to exhaust myself in the past, and therefore no need to conserve, otherwise Odin’s lie would not have carried as far as it did.”

“His magic?” Tony clarified, and Loki nodded. “Do you know how to get rid of it voluntarily?”

Loki frowned, probably thinking over the theory of it. He didn’t look like he’d tried before. “I— yes. Probably. It has failed in the past, but only with the Casket, or if a Jotun touched my bare skin. Why would I wish to? Have you seen a Jotun before?”

Tony pulled the coat tighter around his shoulders, shaking his head. “Just you. Thor says he thinks Skurge is Jotun, though.”

“Skurge is a hybrid, possibly considered more monstrous than the Jotuns themselves.”

Thor’d told them as much. Tony knew next to nothing about Norse mythology, hadn’t even bothered to check if there was anything to read up on the Jotuns in it, hadn’t seen the point before now, but Thor had told them the Asgardian opinion of them, but he also told them of his own mistake of judgement. “I don’t think any race is, like, monstrous,” he said, picking his words carefully. “As a race they’re nothing but what they were naturally meant to be, it just depends on what the other races believe.”

“And not as a race?” Loki asked, sounding as if he found Tony’s answer funny. “What if, alone, they are monstrous to both their own race and others?”

“Then they’re different, unique,” Tony shrugged, knowing better than to think they were talking hypothetically. “Nobody’s born monstrous, and appearance isn’t what makes a monster, either.”

“Your outlook is almost refreshing, if it wasn’t naïve.” Loki commented quietly.

“I know what I’m talking about,” he insisted. “It’s all about perception. This thing is monstrous,” he said, pulling the blanket away and pointing at the arc reactor. “But people perceive it the way _they want_ to. My personality is monstrous, but people perceive that the way _I want_ them to perceive it. Get it?”

“So, what is this speech for? Believe in myself and I won’t be a Jotun?” Loki rolled his eyes tiredly.

“No, that _looking_ different doesn’t make you a monster, but people making you _think_ you are, makes _you_ think it, too. Doesn’t make it _true_.”

Loki stared at Tony again, something he’d taken to doing quite a lot lately when Tony came out with something—well, Tony wasn’t really sure what it was he was saying, but every now and again Loki would look at him like that, as if he was trying to take apart his words and find a lie in them, and find out why Tony believed them to be true when he couldn’t.

“I’m gonna go get more ice,” he said, looking away to hide the small smile he felt coming on when he knew that Loki was only gonna sit staring at him silently for the next five or ten minutes anyway.

 

 

*

 

 

Outside, Tony took a moment to have a very introverted panic attack. He trudged his way through the snow, holding the wolf skin tight against himself, though there was no wind. It was eerily quiet again, but then it almost always was around here. They’d spent only five days here so far, still had two more to go, at least, possibly more, and Tony had no idea how he was gonna handle those two days. He was definitely done for if Loki needed more time.

At first, he was freaked out on his own behalf because he was noticing a few things in common, which he’d been able to shake off, after a while, given that everyone had that many different aspects to their personalities, they were always bound to have something in common with each other.

Then he’d started to _really_ worry when that common ground got a lot wider and grew room to walk around on, and the fact that neither of them seemed to hesitate to walk around on it. They actually enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons occasionally, for the sake of figuring each other out, for the entertainment if having someone on par with themselves when it came to screwing around with someone.

To follow up on that, they’d started to understand and predict one another. Knew when was a good time to hold back on the screwing around and tip-toe instead, knew how to think like each other for a short enough period of time to figure out what the other was thinking without _either_ of them having to speak it, and just _knowing_ from each other’s faces when that happened.

Now it was really bad, though, because Tony was actually beginning to like the God of Mischief.

He couldn’t help it, really; five days in each other’s company, they were bound to grow on one another. But for as much as he could tell what Loki was thinking sometimes, and vice versa, he was keeping this information closely guarded, and in favour of that, wasn’t trying to figure out if Loki found he was getting along with him to, or if he just thought he wasn’t that bad to put up with for a while. It was exactly the kind of information he _didn’t_ need to know, and that _didn’t_ need to go any further than this. There was just no way they could be buddy-buddy, given who they both were, so there was no point in entertaining the notion, which was too bad, because between the two of them, and under better circumstances, the discussions could’ve been amazing.

So that was it. Two more days, they’d go back to Midgard, Tony would go back to the redesigns on Stark Tower, and Loki would—probably be dragged back to Asgard with Thor, he wasn’t sure what was gonna happen there—and he’d never have to catch Loki giving him that hilarious stare that Loki didn’t realise was hilarious, or the flick of his wrists when he moved his hands to do almost anything that he probably didn’t realise he was doing, or tell anyone about the God of Mischief sleeps with his mouth open a few centimetres, or warn them that the laugh is normally a cover-up for how he doesn’t want to deal with what you’re implying, and—

_Shit, Tony. Shit, shit, motherfucking shit._

He stopped in the snow, looking back at the cave entrance where Loki was probably still sat trying to figure out if Tony was really really smart or really really naïve. When the hell did—Okay, thinking back, he supposed he always kinda noticed that Loki was pretty easy on the eyes, but there was a far jump between observing and actually appreciating. And it wasn’t even just looks he was thinking about, now, it was—

 _Fuck it, Tony,_ he told himself _. You’ve done some pretty stupid stuff in your life, but this alone might just top them all._

That is, until he turned away from the cave again and realized he was floundering around in the snow with no armour on, and in the plain sight of three, fully grown Frost Giants.

His insides _froze_ , apart from his heart, which felt like it was beating in his stomach with sudden, genuine fear, and he took a step back, then another.

“How did a mortal,” the middle one spoke, voice impossibly deep and too low, too quiet for a creature this size. Each of them was bigger than Skurge. “Find its way into the wilderness of Jotunheim?”

 _Think, Tony, think think think._ He could just pretend he couldn’t understand them. They clearly knew enough about the realms to know what he was, but maybe the fact that he _did_ understand them meant they could be going out of their way to _make_ themselves understood. He knew nothing about them, they had the upper hand. They’d probably just kill him, then, and chances were they’d seen him emerge from the cave that Loki was now sat in, unprepared and unable to fight. No, he’d have to take them out before they took him, first.

He moved his hands closer together under the wolf skin, appearing to gather it around himself, as he pushed the signal button on both bracelets.

“Answer,” a different Giant demanded, snarling and clenching his fists.

“Accidentally,” Was the first answer that came to Tony’s mind, and it wasn’t really a wrong answer, either.

“There are few ways to travel between the realms,” the first spoke again. “The Bifrost is broken, and you are no sorcerer.”

Tony resisted the urge to swear aloud, listening and waiting for the suit.

“What magic brought you here?” The second spoke again. The third did nothing but watch.

“I told you, it was an—“

“A sorcerer brought you here,” the first stated, still speaking quietly. “We have been seeking a way to bring a certain sorcerer to us. Tell us the name, and you may live. If it is the wrong name, perhaps you will both live.”

“Or we can draw him out with your screams,” The second flexed his fingers, baring his teeth in a predatory grin.

Almost on cue, there was a loud crash from behind them as the suit smashed several icicles on its launch from the cave. Tony took several steps back when the Giants looked up, throwing the wolf skin from himself and holding his arms out wide. Loki would know now that he was in trouble, but if he was smart enough and quick enough—he would know in a moment if he was. The suit assembled itself around his body, and Tony’s eyes flew wide as the second Giant started ambling his way right at Tony.

“Jarvis!” He shouted, willing the suit to power up on time, but the Giant got to him first. All the air left him as he was dealt a powerful blow directly in the chest, and he flew backwards, struggling to catch his breath again until he crashed into the rock just above the mouth of the cave, falling to the ground with a thud. The HUD lit up then, power, finally, and he panicked when he heard Loki shout something behind him. He had to do something quick before Loki was spotted and they were both done for.

Ignoring Loki, he fired up the repulsors and flew directly into the Giant that had sent him flying, tackling him and throwing them both several feet away from the other two. He blasted the thing directly in the eyes, gritting his teeth and smiling grimly behind the faceplate at the roar of pain he let out, blinded—for not, at least. He lifted a foot and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him off his feet and turning his attention straight back to the others. If they were too strong, he could at least grab Loki and fly them both as far away from here as possible, but the news would soon spread that Loki was _here_ , and no corner would be safe.

Maybe it was because he’d underestimated them, his lack of knowledge where Frost Giants were concerned working against him, or the fact that his attack was so frantic it was predictable, or maybe he just never stood a chance against three of them alone to begin with, but upon attempting to tackle the third Giant, too, the armour over his back was suddenly _crushed_ against him at the shoulders, before being ripped away from his body when the first Giant laid a huge hand on him and just _pulled_.

The third Giant laughed, balling his fist and bringing it down twice, hard, on the side of Tony’s head. He lifted his hands, disoriented and unbalanced and fired at him, blinking against the black clouding at the edge of his vision. He thought _Thor’s_ punches had been tough on the armour… “Jarvis,” he mumbled, voice shaking. “Flares, now, _quickly._ ”

The suit carried out the rest of the work for him as the air around the three of them exploded into hundreds of little explosions, burning his own suit as well as the third Giant, and Tony made to take off as he stumbled backwards, roaring, but he was too slow—the first Giant grabbed him by the helmet, lifting him from his feet by his head alone, and he couldn’t not shout out from the pain of it as his neck and shoulders protesting from the weight they were carrying with them, stretching, and the helmet began to cave in on his head.

The second had recovered by now, or almost had, marching heavily toward them, hunched over. He hissed something in a language Tony didn’t recognize, raised both fists while letting out an almighty bellow, and punched Tony squarely in the chest again. Tony screamed as the helmet broke in half in the first Giant’s hand, felt the edges of the metal tear at his scalp as the force of the punch had him flying through the air, landing in a heap of burned metal, muscles on fire and blood already streaming from his scalp into his eyes.

He saw Loki in the corner of his vision and swore, attempting to sit up and wincing at the sound of the plates of metal covering his chest scraping against those over his arms, where it’d been dented and misshaped by the punch. He couldn’t _breathe_ , he couldn’t _see_ right, he couldn’t—

“We’re leaving, hold my arms tightly,” Loki’s voice suddenly spoke in his ear, hurried. The ground felt like it was spinning where he sat and his vision was red and blurry.

“I can’t—I can’t breathe,” Tony gasped, struggling to look down at his chest, and when he finally managed to, he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. The reactor was—no, it was protected by the suit, by its own casing, it couldn’t be—it wasn’t smashed, that was—

“I said,” Loki repeated with a snarl, glancing over his shoulder, and Tony remembered those were Frost Giants he could hear. “ _Hold on tightly_.” Loki lifted Tony’s hands, grabbing his wrists, and Tony slowly wrapped his own armoured fingers around Loki’s, too. “If you let go, Tony, believe me when I say I _will_ find you, I will _hunt down_ whoever has you—and then I will kill them so that I can kill you myself, am I clear?”

“But your magic—“

Loki looked over his shoulder and Tony saw movement, before Loki looked back at him again, eyes wide, then he shut them tightly, and reality started to melt away again.

He was speeding through nothingness again, but this time it felt more like they were hurdling, graceless as the colours appeared and crossed the corner of his vision again, and he was suddenly terrified, gripping Loki’s wrists even tighter because Loki was carrying them through this on almost nothing, wound in his chest still gaping, his grip on Tony falling away slowly, and he really didn’t want to watch Loki exhausting and killing himself like this, over Tony’s mistake.

Grass came rushing toward them, and he didn’t remember landing or the feeling of falling, but he did remember the smell of it in his nose when he was suddenly lying flat on his chest in it, his fingers still wrapped around one of Loki’s hands. He turned to look at him, head spinning and vision going dark already, and the last thing he remembered thinking before the darkness pulled him under was that his skin was the colour of deep ocean and his eyes were blood red.

 

 

*

 

 

When awareness first returned to him, he thought he’d had some kind of messed up nightmare, last time he eats something Bruce cooks before he sleeps, there was an alarm beeping somewhere, time to wake up, Tony.

But when he did start to wake up, the pain returned to him _everywhere_ , and with it his memory of the last five days, in fragments and flashes, out of order and senseless at first. It started falling into place and he remembered the Frost Giants, the smell of grass—

He gasped, blinking his eyes open as quickly as he could manage, bright light stabbing into his retina, amplifying his headache. It was too bright, too white, where the hell was he?

“Tony?” A woman’s voice—Pepper—“Tony, don’t move, you’ll pull out your IV!”

He felt her hands on his arms, holding him down, and he didn’t realise he’d been moving until then, trying to sit up. IV? He lifted his head, looking down at his body to find bandages wrapped around parts of his arms, a small tube inserted in his hand, and he let his head fall back against the pillow when he started to feel dizzy.

“Where the hell—“

“You’re at S.H.E.I.L.D, Tony, the medical bay if the Helicarrier, they didn’t want to let an ordinary hospital treat you in case—well, in case they asked questions, or the press—“

“What day is it?” He asked, voice cracking from disuse. “How long’ve I been out?”

Pepper bit her lower lip and frowned at the clock, counting. “About twenty hours? Doctor Selvig picked up the energy signal, it was a miracle; said it was almost so weak he missed it, they picked you up as soon as—“

“Did they pick Loki up?”

“—Loki?” Pepper frowned in momentary confusion. “They—well; they’re not telling me much, but yeah. I think he’s being held on site somewhere, but if he woke up yet they didn’t tell me.”

Tony closed his eyes, letting out a long, deep breath. S.H.E.I.L.D had Loki. He did it; he got them back from Jotunheim on almost _nothing_. That _was_ a miracle. “Did they get Amora?”

“No, we didn’t.”

Tony opened his eyes when Fury’s voice came suddenly; when the hell did he get here? “She got away,” he said after a moment, as if to clarify.

“After we _lost Loki_ , her guy took them both outta there, haven’t picked up their trace yet.” Fury crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind Pepper, his jet black trench coat and uniform standing out massively against the white of the wall. Seriously, why did all hospitals go for white? Tony felt like someone just erased all semblance of life from the room. “Where the _hell_ did you go?”

 _Hang on a second._ “What, you’re blaming—you’re putting her escape on me?!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but your tone implied it, asshole.” Tony closed his eyes again. “I’m not dealing with this right now, get out.”

“Stark, you _need_ to tell us—“

“No wait, where’s Loki? Is he in the medical bay too?”

Fury narrowed his one eye, uncrossed his arms and marched out of the room, door swinging shut behind him.

“What the _fuck_ is his problem?” Tony opened his eyes just to glare at the door, speaking loudly enough in the hope that Fury heard him. “And why is the fucking _door_ white too?”

“Tony…” Pepper laid a hand on his arm again, and he took a deep, relaxing breath.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, it’s….been a weird few days.”

“What _happened,_ Tony?”

He paused for a moment, staring up at the goddamned white ceiling, considering how much to tell her before deciding, hey, it’s Pepper. He took another breath, frowning as he went back and started from the beginning of the mission.

 

 

*

 

 

Pepper understood. Of course she would, she always did. She didn’t always sympathise, but she always understood, and she agreed that Tony was probably going to go through a lot of torture on his own, and/or trouble over Loki, she still understood, and promised to be there to help him along the way, when he needed her. He didn’t know what he did to deserve Pepper, or when he did it, but he was so fucking grateful regardless.

Telling her everything, though, saying it out loud; it just made him tired. Nothing was any clearer in his mind—in fact, he was probably even more confused—but exhaustion even after twenty hours being out took him after their talk, and she left him to sleep after a ‘be careful’ speech, as he’d apparently sustained a heavy concussion, or so they suspected, assuring him that she’d find out as much as she could about Loki and alert him right away if he was awake, if he woke, or if anything big happened. He dreamt of snow, and of Loki, but he couldn’t see or hear him in the dream; their conversations were written in the snow in front of him, and made no sense most of the time.

He ended up lying flat on his back in his mangled armour in the dream, but not panicking. He just lay there, unable to read what Loki was saying anymore, until he finally did appear, but Tony still couldn’t hear him. He placed both hands over Tony’s chest, and he couldn’t breathe, suddenly, images of a broken, smashed arc reactor coming back to him, and he woke with a shaky gasp, clutching at his chest.

There was no one in the room, but someone had come while he was asleep and removed the IV, and Pepper must’ve been back because there was a fresh set of his clothes in the seat she had occupied earlier. He pulled the blankets off, swinging his legs gently out of the bed and sitting up slowly, careful not to move to fast and cause a headache. He was hungry, he realized, really hungry, and he didn’t have the patience for how slow he gathered up his clothes and headed into the en-suite bathroom, flicking the shower on.

His scalp had been stitched in three areas, and there were small cuts in others, so he didn’t bother with shampoo, really not feeling like stinging himself. He had the shower running hot, memories of Jotunheim chilling him still.

There was still no one in the room when he emerged from the bathroom, and he didn’t feel like waiting around for someone to show up and tell him he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere, so he stood straight and put on an expression that said ‘I’m supposed to be here’ for anyone he passed. He was searching for either his team, or for where Loki was being kept, but either would do, as the former would lead him to the latter somehow anyway. He had no idea what he was going to do or say, but he figured he’d know when he was there.

In an almost ridiculous coincidence, it was Thor who found him first while he was wandering, scaring the shit out of Tony as he laid a huge hand on his shoulder from behind him.

“Stark! You are with us again,” He said, grinning widely, which was a far better welcome back than Fury’d given him, but there was a tilt to Thor’s eyebrows that stopped the smile from reaching his eyes. “I was told you were bedridden, this is a surprise, to find you here.”

“Uhh—yeah, I was, sort of.” He watched Thor’s eyes move to the visible stitched gashes in his head. “Up and walking now, though.”

“I have just come from my brother’s bedside,” Thor lowered his voice, dragging his eyes away from Tony’s injuries. “I fear his recovery may not be so quick.”

“He’s awake?” Tony asked, maybe a little too quickly going by the look on Thor’s face.

“Only of recent, I have been dismissed from his quarters.” He didn’t look happy about that, and Tony expected it was probably because Loki himself had kicked him out.

He wondered how much he could get away with, where Thor was concerned, and decided to go for it. “Can you show me where he is?”

He didn’t answer immediately, tilting his head instead, watching Tony contemplatively. It was too weird; he’d never seen Thor so quiet and thoughtful. “I will,” he spoke, eventually, turning his back on Tony and beginning to walk back the direction he came. “If you will explain to me once you have spoken to him what befell you both.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed easily, jogging for a moment to keep up, giving up and slowing down when it made his head spin too much. “I’m gonna be de-briefed later anyway, probably, in front of everybody if I know Fury. Just gimme some time here first.”

“Well will talk more on this, then,” There was a tone to his voice that Tony didn’t like; Thor didn’t usually show a great interest in wanting to _discuss_ a whole lot, so when he did…

“Uhm. Okay.”

“There,” He stopped at a corridor that turned to the left with two S.H.E.I.L.D agents at the top of it. Thor raised an arm and indicated the very last door. “I will await you here.”

 _Thor really wants to talk to me about this_ , he thought, feeling Thor’s eyes on his back following him like a nagging worry as he passed all the other doors, no noise, no decoration, until he was stood outside Loki’s. This was probably the worst idea ever, and he hated the feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next; he had no idea if he should be preparing himself for things being different when he came out of this room again, or if they’d go back to the way they were. They were back in the real world now, the conversations and jokes and teasing were fine when they had no one else to talk to, but did it mean enough now they they’d gotten out? He knew Loki shouldn’t have been recovered enough to even get them anywhere, and that it had taken a lot out of him to do that. He could’ve gotten himself somewhere safe, left Tony where he was, made it easier, but—Tony’s lips curved into a small smile as he remembered Loki threatening to kill him.

He lifted one hand, ghosting over the arc reactor, and then the other, to push the handle down.

Loki’s room was pretty much the same as his, the only difference being that Loki’s had no window. His hands were cuffed and chained again, resting on either side of him with the chain crossing his waist. He was wearing a black v-neck, long-sleeved shirt, and bandages over his chest were visible from the neck down. His eyes and mouth were closed, and every inch of skin Tony could see was blue.

“You sleep with your mouth open,” Tony commented, lowering himself into the chair, muscles still aching a little. Loki probably would’ve kicked Thor out anyway, but the blue had sealed the deal.

Loki’s mouth twitched into a smirk, and he opened his eyes, lifting his head to look at Tony slowly. His eyes were a thick red colour, like they’d been when Tony passed out, just like the Giants they’d run from. “It slipped my mind. I am tired.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’m finding  it difficult, yes, with constant company, almost.” Loki sat up, chains rattling while he moved. “What are you doing here?”

 _Wasn’t that the million dollar question?_ “Just thought I’d check-up. I got a few questions, too.”

“As did Thor,” Loki rolled his eyes. “Did you not explain to him?”

Tony shook his head. “Just woke up, not long ago, he’s outside waiting for me, though, at the end of the corridor. Can they hear us?” He added as an afterthought.

“There are two video cameras in this room, but no audio equipment that I can tell. Do you wish for privacy?” Loki watched him closely, red eyes unblinking, and Tony couldn’t stop staring at them, his pupils were wide, dilated compared to the three from yesterday.

“Maybe, it depends on the answers.”

“I’m listening.”

Tony straightened in the chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at his hands. “My arc reactor was definitely broken,” he said after a moment.

“That isn’t a question.”

“Did you fix it?”

He looked up to find Loki still watching him, as he blinked once, slowly. “I used a reversing spell; I would not know where to begin re-constructing it.”

No wonder Loki was covered in blue. He was probably more exhausted now than he’d been when they first arrived in Jotunheim. “And you could’ve just left me there.”

“Tony,” Loki’s voice was quiet suddenly. “I know where these _not-questions_ are leading. I would rather you stopped now.”

 _Oh._ Tony stared back at Loki again, and this time Loki’s gaze did waver and he looked away, to an empty spot on the wall in front of him. “Why?”

“I seek truths where there are lies,” he said after a moment, without bringing his eyes back to Tony. “This is not a truth I need to know.”

Tony thought that over for a minute, when he pushed aside the idea of Loki pulling a _‘whoa this is awkward, but let’s just stay friends, huh?’_ except—well, enemies. There didn’t seem to be a friendship ground between them, without there being something else with it. If that was the case, though, and Loki being who he was, he would’ve laughed in Tony’s face and used the information somehow. And it was too late to say he didn’t wanna know; clearly, just from those words, he already did. He just didn’t want to be confronted with it, but why?

“You think I’m not afraid too?” He asked when that finally hit him; Loki was just as freaked out as he was.

“ _Why are you doing this?_ ” He lowered his voice to a whisper, a hiss, looking back at Tony with narrowed eyes. “I _know_ why you are who you are; why you work with this organisation even though they _lie_ to you, and _use_ you, why you want to believe in your idea of a team—why benefit is this to you?”

“I’m doing it because I don’t think I can’t,” he said, the answer coming easily. “And you know I’m not lying. You could tell if I was lying or trying to mess with you, and it _scares_ you that I’m not.”

“It scares _you_ more than it scares me,” Loki insisted, glaring. “When I am recovered I will be dragged back to Asgard to await my punishment. Seven more days, perhaps, and I will be gone from this place. Don’t pretend you would follow, or some other ridiculous notion.” He looked away again, turning his face away from Tony entirely. “Go.”

This was definitely not how Tony had imagined this going, though he didn’t exactly have a plan or an idea in mind. He had his answers, but Loki had pointed out what he hadn’t been thinking far enough to consider, and it _did_ scare him, the amount his mind was willing to ignore.

“This is easier.” Loki said when Tony didn’t move at first, and Tony let out a frustrated noise, reaching a hand forward to Loki’s arms, the skin under the fabric cool to the touch.

“That’s just—“

“Cameras,” Loki whispered, pulling his arm away and glaring at Tony again. “Leave me, Tony.”

Tony had learned when to drop a subject with Loki, even if it was temporary, and he knew he wasn’t getting any further today. Not just because Loki wouldn’t talk, but because they both had too much to think about.

 

 

*

 

 

When he came out, Thor informed him quietly that Fury was expecting them on the bridge for the debriefing.

“He is none too happy that you were not in your room.”

Tony didn’t say anything, just shrugged and flashed his typical grin, before falling into place beside Thor while they left the medical bay. Thor was eerily quiet, and so was Tony, for that matter; his mind was a huge mass of confusion and worry. He didn’t want things to finish with Loki the way they were, but he knew any other way was pretty much impossible.

“I would have questioned you, now,” Thor said, frowning. “But I will hear your tale with the team. I trust all will become clear.”

From how weird Thor was acting, Tony had a feeling he had more he wanted to clear up than everybody else, but he said nothing, and nodded.

 

 

*

 

 

He left out tonnes, naturally. He mentioned nothing of their talking to pass the time, or the things they learned about each other. He mentioned the blue skin for Thor’s sake, knowing he was probably worried about that, but when he reached the end of the story, Fury started to interrupt him with questions about how big the Frost Giants were, how easily they tore through Tony’s suit, whether or not they got a name for Tony, if they thought Midgard was holding Loki. All unnecessary questions, Tony thought, considering they didn’t seem to have a way of passing between worlds on their own.

“He broke your reactor with—with a punch?” Bruce repeated at one point, and Tony couldn’t help bringing his hand up to place his palm over it reassuringly.

“Yeah, well, with both hands, anyway. They were too strong to use force against, I should’ve used heat,” he said as an afterthought. “The flares burned their skin really easily.”

“It’s not broken now,” Cap said, frowning, and this was when it was gonna start getting complicated, Tony knew.

“Loki did a reversing thing before he teleported us, put it back together.” He answered, keeping his voice business-like casual, like he had been the whole time.

“I thought you said he was outta juice?” Fury had actually taken a seat this time, and he leaned back in his chair, watching Tony.

“He was—well, he’d spent like, five days building it up again, he wasn’t too bad.”

“You were both half-dead when we got hands on you, why’d he use it up getting _you_ back alive?”

Tony shrugged, pulling a face. “Beats me.”

“Stark, I _need_ to know what you know,” Fury moved forward again, crossing his arms over the desk. “If you—I dunno, made some kinda buddy outta him, this could be good, we could—“

“No,” Thor interrupted, his tone dark. “I will not allow my brother to be used as such. Something has changed in him upon waking; he does not fight me with every word, he seems….tired, of it all.”

“They’re bringin’ him back to Asgard anyway,” Tony agreed. “What’s the point?”

Fury looked like he expected the objection from Thor, but not for Tony to agree. He remained silent, eye moving from Tony, to Thor, and back again, before sighing.

“We’re done here today,” he pushed his chair back, standing. “Amora’s still on the loose and if she knows we have Loki, you can guess where she’s gonna go next. Everyone on standby as usual, except you, Stark, ‘till you get a suit here, if you got a back-up. Dismissed.”

 

*

 

Tony did have a back-up, but it wasn’t ready. He’d been repairing the Mark VI between redesigns of the Tower for the last couple of weeks, but he figured if he was gonna be doing repairs anyway he’d might as well fix up the Mark VII, since all he had to do was replace some plate damage and the helmet, so he had everything he needed to fix it brought to the Helicarrier. He probably should’ve just gone back to his workshop, but he didn’t want to be that far off site, especially when Loki was still here and everyone else was waiting here. The distraction was welcome, anyway, for the few days it took to finish it.

Everyone but Pepper gave him his space, but he didn’t mind Pepper invading it anyway. She brought him food when he got carried away and forgot to eat, scolded him into sleeping when he lost track of what time it was, reminding him constantly that he was still injured and shouldn’t be working himself that hard.

She didn’t mention Loki, but he did catch her watching him quietly sometimes, sadly, and each time he spotted it he gave her a smile to reassure her, _yeah I know, it sucks and I’m an idiot, but it’ll be okay, don’t worry Pep._

He figured he was somewhere into his fourth day of messing around with it when Thor visited.

“They have requested that I return with Loki to Asgard tomorrow,” he said, cutting to the chase after a few pleasantries. Tony paused, looking up from the gauntlet he’d been rewiring.

“Yeah?”

Thor nodded. “He was recovered enough after five days to return you here. They feel tomorrow he will be recovered enough to be brought home.”

Tony busied himself again; picking up a needle and making sure everything was properly attached, mostly for the sake of having something to do with his hands. “Is he?”

“His appearance has re—is back to his usual,” Thor corrected himself. It must be weird to have to remind yourself, after knowing someone for as long as Thor knew Loki, that how you thought they looked wasn’t the real them at all. “His wound has almost closed. He will not speak, but I have been assured he is well.”

“That’s good,” Tony answered automatically, and Thor nodded, slowly.

“You should say goodbye,” he suggested after a moment, inclining his head to Tony before leaving the small workshop again.

Tony ran a hand over his face, sighing.

 

 

*

 

 

He returned to Stark Tower after that, and brought all his equipment with him. He’d finished everything he needed to do with the suit the day before anyway; he was just trying to distract himself now. He stayed in his workshop to make sure everything was back where it was supposed to be in his organised mess, and then took the elevator to the top floor. It was ten o’ clock at night, all his staff but the security staff had gone home, and not even the security staff were allowed any higher than the Avengers common room. With the team on standby at the Helicarrier, the Tower was quiet and still. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there trying to decide what to do, or what time it was when he took a seat at the minibar and sat staring at the same glass of scotch whiskey, but when he next looked at the clock, it was one thirty and he still hadn’t touched the drink. He thought he might be coming to a decision, though.

 

 

*

 

 

The Helicarrier didn’t seem to get any quieter at any time of day, Tony realised as he marched through the corridors. The only difference was that the agents were a little more relaxed, talking and joking among themselves, when Fury and Hill were nowhere to be found. They were asleep, most likely, along with the rest of the team. None of them questioned that he was up and about, he probably slept three times less than the average person and it wasn’t exactly a big secret.

Thor must have been coming and going from the medical bay, because none of the guards questioned him when he got there. The two at the end of Loki’s ward were different ones from the first day, but they stepped aside without a word when he got there, which had him curious over what kind of clearance of authority the team had. Not the same as a typical response unit, anyway, that much was clear.

The lights were off in Loki’s room, which he’d expected. The cameras probably had night vision, but he only really needed a slight bit of distortion anyway.

“Tony,” Loki stated from the darkness as soon as the door opened, and he heard the chains rattling again, probably as Loki sat up.

He didn’t say anything else, so Tony shut the door, letting his eyes adjust to the low light as the reactor lit the way in front of him. He moved to the chair he’d used the other day, pulling it closer to the bed so that he could face Loki, and the reactor would light his face. “They’re bringing you back tomorrow. Well, today, technically.”

“I know,” Loki said, narrowing his eyes against the reactor light, looking from it to Tony. “Thor comes to me often, and speaks. He informed me last night.”

“He said you don’t speak back.”

Loki went quiet, and for a moment the only sound in the room was their breathing. “Why are you here?”

“Are there still no mics in here?” He asked, lowering his voice.

“None that I can tell,” was all Loki said, and Tony kind of wished he’d brought something to double check, but if he was gonna do this, people were gonna make some educated guesses, anyway.

“I’m giving you an opportunity. Have you got enough to scramble the cameras a little?”

“….I can make them show the last few seconds repeatedly.” Loki leaned closer, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Gimme your hands,” Tony watched as Loki’s eyes widened a little, and he shook his head but offered his hands anyway.

“They will know it was you,” he pointed out. “They will have no _proof_ , but they will know.”

“Then don’t make me regret it,” Tony looked up and grinned as he pulled the needle he’d been working with earlier out of his pocket, pulling one of Loki’s hands closer and shifting toward to look closely at the cuff while he fiddled with it.

“You are insane,” Loki said suddenly, as if he’d only just realised Tony had a lot more screws loose than he though, a grin curving around his own lips.

“And you’re supposed to be clever, don’t pretend you didn’t know that before. It’s not opened,” he explained, moving to the other hand, tilting his head and sliding the needle gently into the mechanism there. “But they’ll break when you need them to. I’m gonna leave it to you to time it right.”

He removed the needle when he felt the latch slide far enough, but not too far, and then looked up to find Loki shaking his head almost bemusedly. “And what will you have me do then? Stay, hidden in that Tower, with you?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything; I’m just giving you an opportunity. The one you took from Amora didn’t work out too badly.”

“You almost died, Tony.”

“I know.”

Loki gave him that look again, the one where he was searching his words, his face, his eyes for any trace of a lie, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, gaze moving across Tony’s face. He was afraid again, Tony realised; afraid of the fact that Tony was being genuine, unwilling to let him in and risk being used and lied to again. Who knew the God of Mischief was afraid of the truth?

He was still leaning pretty close, with one of Loki’s hands still in both of his, so he pulled on that hand gently, urging Loki closer. He watched as Loki took in a short, shaky breath and closed his eyes, letting Tony lead him after a moment of resisting the pull. When he was close enough, Tony raised his other hand to slide into his hair, at the back of his head, and closed the distance, pressing his lips firmly against Loki’s.

He was slow to respond, tense, still, but Tony ran his thumb gently over the curve of his wrist, and Loki released the breath he’d been holding against Tony’s mouth, tilting his head and opening his mouth to the kiss. It became quick and desperate, Tony holding tight to Loki’s wrist even when Loki lifted both his hands to Tony’s face, holding him in place while Tony made a noise against him, pressing closer, neither of them really convinced that it was a good idea but needing it, all the same.

Loki broke it first, lowering his hands to Tony’s shoulders and pushing him back a few centimetres, eyes wide and breathing quick. Tony swallowed nervously, taking both of his hands and moving them back into the bed, then stood slowly. Loki didn’t take his eyes from Tony’s until he bent over and left another quick kiss on the corner of Loki’s mouth, murmuring, “ _Don’t_ make me regret it,” before crossing the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

And he meant it, he really did. It was so much easier to hurt someone, to damage them, when you cared and felt they deserved it.

 

 

*

 

 

The next two weeks were hell.

Tony didn’t leave the Tower the next morning; didn’t go to see Thor off with Loki, he didn’t want to be there when the shit it the fan if Loki decided to take his opportunity, didn’t want to be seen to react, not react, or do something wrong. He was called back to the Helicarrier with the others anyway, of course.

Fury was livid already when he got there, everyone else present except for Natasha and Clint. He was shouting demands at all the agents around him, search everything, find Loki again, he’ll slip up somehow, we need to be there when he does—telling anyone who pointed out that he might not even be on Earth to _shut the fuck up_.

“Did I miss a party?” He asked, putting on an heir of confusion as he walked onto the bridge. It wasn’t difficult, he put on a public front for about 90% of the time he was awake.

“Loki got away,” Steve explained, voice tight, glancing over at Fury shouting something at a screen.

“He—what? Just like that?” Tony looked from Steve to Bruce and back again. “What the hell?!”

“ _Apparently_ ,” Fury turned around again, marching toward the conference desk, glaring at Tony. “Loki had recovered a lot more than we anticipated. Unless he was faking it the entire time.”

“He snapped his bonds in twain,” Thor explained quietly. “It….is difficult to understand.”

“When you broke them on the Jotunheim incident,” Fury started. Is that what they were calling it, the Jotunheim incident? “What did you do, and could Loki have imitated it?”

“Are you blaming this on me, too?” Tony demanded, acting suitable outraged. “First Amora, now this?”

“I didn’t say anything this time either, Stark. Answer the goddamn question.”

“I used the laser from the gauntlet to break it. That’s it. I dunno if he could’ve done it too.”

“It was as if he just…pulled,” Steve said, frowning down at the table. “He just pulled his hands apart and they broke.”

“I apologise, my friends,” Thor said, sadly. “I did not think it possible.”

“We ain’t got time for that,” Fury shook his head. “Right now we need to focus on finding him again. Thor, go back to Asgard, find out what they can do for us. Cap, join agents Romanoff and Barton on the deck. Doctor Banner—Stark, unless you wanna stand there being _useless_ , you’re gonna join Doctor Banner in the lab, find a way of tracking Loki.”

“ _Useless--?!”_

Tony uncrossed his arms, starting to object, but Bruce stood quickly and pulled him by the elbow.

“He’s just angry, Tony, come on, ignore it.”

 

 

*

 

 

Thor didn’t take long in Asgard; Heimdall still couldn’t see Loki, though he did tell them that he caught sight of Amora in Alfheim, wherever the hell that was, but no Skurge. Thor insisted there was always the chance she had followed Loki there, but Fury wouldn’t give up the search. Tony and Bruce were joined by Erik Selvig, and spent days watching for fluctuations that would suggest an opening, but nothing appeared. They talked about finding a way to track his magic, but with no subject to take readings from, it was a no-go.

It was only after ten days of constant work a little sleep on everyone’s part that Fury called most of the search off. He needed Selvig elsewhere and Tony and Bruce returned to Stark Tower, theorizing in the labs there, though there was still no way to track magic without information on what to look for. Thor joined them the following day, said little, ate half the kitchen, and slept for thirteen hours. Natasha and Clint were still under other orders, though, and Tony had no idea where they were.

Tony spent the entire time freaking out, inwardly, at least. He did his best to show no outward signs of stress. He couldn’t go five minutes without wondering if he was gonna regret this, what was gonna happen, if he could be any _more_ of a selfish bastard, where the hell Loki even _was_.

He was taking an hour to clear his head, in front of his mini-bar with the TV on for the sake of some sort of noise filling the space to distract him, and 3D schematics of the Mark VII on display in front of him, when Thor eventually spoke up. He stepped out of the elevator, walking slowly, tiredly, frowning at the TV, so Tony said, “Mute,” and went back to sipping his drink.

“Doctor Banner has bid me visit you,” he said, moving to stand at the other side of the bar, across from Tony. “He tells me you have not eaten yet, this day, and the moon is rising soon.”

Tony pulled a face, checking the clock and blinking. The hour he’d planned to take had apparently turned into five. “Oh, uhh…. I guess I got carried away,” he said, pushing his glass away and sliding a hand across the projection model, minimizing it. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Neither of them made to move, and Tony looked up at Thor, taking a closer look at him and noticing for the first time the dark rings under his eyes. “Trouble sleeping?” He asked, off-handed. He didn’t like how quiet it had gotten.

“You visited my brother the night before his escape, Director Fury tells me.”

 _Fuck it._ “Yeah.”

Thor leaned closer, and Tony leaned back, staring. “…Thank you, then, Tony Stark.”

Thor turned and made his way back to the elevator, and all thoughts of going to eat left Tony’s mind, replaced by complete and total confusion over what Thor was actually thanking him _for_ , and what he knew, or thought he knew.

If he knew Tony had a hand in Loki’s escape, _why_ was he thanking him for it? Tony didn’t even know if it was the right thing to do, he’d been walking around dead on his feet for days, torturing himself over his decision, and wondering when he would know if he would regret it or not. He felt like he’d been falling and falling for days, waiting to either hit the ground in a huge mess, or for Loki to appear. And even then, he didn’t know if Loki would catch him, or watch him falling, and laugh, and the fear that someone had that power over him was scary.

It’d probably be better if Loki did watch him fall, and if he managed to pick himself up and clean up his own mess. He’d told himself that he wouldn’t care, either way, once he’d given the opportunity, but he knew that what was best and what he wanted were two different things.

 

 

*

 

 

Tony slept the next day, when he didn’t think he could keep his eyes open any longer. He didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to miss anything when the search was still on, and if Thor was so sure he had something to thank Tony for, how many others were sure he had something to do with it? He seemed to have gotten away with it, for now, and he hadn’t heard from Fury in days, though Bruce was still taking constant updates from the Helicarrier, and Thor hadn’t mentioned it since, so at about 4pm that afternoon, he retreated to his room, locked down all the doors, had a quick shower and collapsed into his bed.

He dreamed, and it began similarly to the day he woke up on the Helicarrier. He was writing messages in the snow, but he was in Central Park, not Jotunheim, and he wasn’t getting any responses back in the snow this time, and the snow was slowly melting, taking his messages with it before Loki could read them. He bent down on his hands and knees, carving the message in deeper and looked down as glass fell in front of him when he did. Fragments of his reactor were falling in tiny pieces before him, and he rolled onto his knees, held his hands against his chest, panicking as he tried to hold it all together, but it wasn’t working.

There were hands over his own then, his eyes flew open and there was no snow, no Central Park, his arc reactor wasn’t falling from his chest in pieces. It was warm and while under his hands, and the hands over his were holding him steady. He realized he was sitting up in his bed, his blankets tangled around his legs, and Loki was there in front of him, on his knees over Tony, holding his hands in place and staring.

Tony wasn’t sure he was real, at first, not sure if this was part of the nightmare or not, but as he blinked himself awake, awareness returned to him and he took a few moments to catch his breathe again while Loki waited.

“You have nightmares regularly?” Loki whispered after minute, hands still over Tony’s chest, and Tony frowned.

“What…?”

“In Jotunheim,” Loki’s eyes moved down to look at the reactor. He was wearing the v-neck again, soft, dark coloured trousers and a pair of leather boots that looked like riding boots. He couldn’t spot any bandages anymore. “You spoke in your sleep, the night you almost froze.”

“I don’t remember,” Tony’s voice was level again, calm, but he didn’t recall dreaming that night.

“’Get up’ you said. ‘You’re going to see your family’.”

 _Oh. Yinsen._ Tony just nodded.

“You called for me before you did this,” Loki squeezed Tony’s hands, nodding at where they were still clutching his chest, and then looked back up at him. “You called for me in a nightmare.”

Tony fought the heat rising in his cheekbones at that then cleared his throat and tried to turn it around. “Were you listening?”

Loki grinned. “Watching and listening.”

“You—how long have you been _here_?”

Loki let go of his hands, leaning back on Tony’s knees. “It was risky to appear in any other room of your tower. You slept heavily, so I left you. Until…”

“You should’ve woken me up.” Tony’s heartbeat had returned to its usual pace, and he lay back on the bed again, settling his head against the pillow. “Where’ve you been?”

“Waiting. Recovering.”

Tony felt Loki rise onto his knees and move to Tony’s side, heard a rustling noise followed by a boot hitting the floor. “I didn’t think you were gonna show up,” he commented, turning onto his side to watch the curve of Loki’s spine and the roll of his shoulders as he bent over, removing the other one. He raised his eyebrows, watching, surprised and amused as Loki put one foot to the floor and lifted himself from the bed enough to pull the blankets away, sliding into the bed on his side, facing Tony.

“Is that what your dream was about?” He asked as he exhaled deeply, getting comfortable. Tony watched him, silently, noticing how he stuck one hand on the pillow and rested the other on the exposed elbow, his hair falling across Tony’s pillow, one stray bit falling across his raised eyebrow while he watched Tony expectantly.

“I was wondering if I was gonna regret my decision or not.”

Loki hadn’t forgotten, after being stuck in the cave, how to read between the lines of what Tony said, because Tony was always saying so much more than he voiced. His expression relaxed after a moment, and Tony could see in his eyes that Loki understood that he was saying something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t know if you were gonna catch me or laugh’.

“Do you?” He blinked, lips spreading into a smirk, and Tony grinned back at him, pushing himself up onto one elbow to lean over Loki, resting his other hand in the pillow next to Loki’s head. Loki rolled onto his back to accommodate him.

“Not yet,” he answered, bending down to kiss Loki strong and hard, and almost immediately Loki craned his neck to meet him, his hands on either side of Tony’s head again, pulling him closer. Tony moved a leg and hoisted himself higher until he was on Loki’s knees, now, the blankets falling from his shoulders like a curtain. The reactor created a glow around them, Loki’s eyes flashing mischievously in the shadows of it when Tony broke the kiss and leaned back to look at him, taking in the sight, until Loki nudged him with his knee and told him to get on with it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> While I can't guarantee they will always be this long, feel free do drop me a prompt or a few, but please check here to make sure I am not already working on something similar; http://starkrevelations.tumblr.com/prompts
> 
> Drabbles are just as welcome.


End file.
